Bend It Like Weasley
by Jedi Tess of Gryffindor
Summary: FINAL CHAPTER UP! Loosely based on "Bend It Like Beckham." A girls' Quidditch team, with students from each House, forms at Hogwarts. A coach with questionable motives is the least of their worries. D-G, post OOTP, COMPLETE
1. The Girls Who Kicked Arse

Bend It Like Weasley 

Jedi Tess of Gryffindor

IMPORTANT A/N: As my bio update says, this has been updated in two ways. The first is a bit to make sure it's all up with "Order of the Phoenix (SPOILER ALERT!!!!) and the second was just a general editing fest. I think the story's improved in several ways and I'd recommend a re-read if you think you can stomach it Thanks so much for your patience and your support!

Summary: Inspired by too many viewings of "Bend It Like Beckham." Ginny Weasley helped to create a team for girls who desperately wanted to play Quidditch and were not chosen for their House teams. It's all fun and games until the most unlikely person decides they have what it takes to go pro. A D/G, R/H fic – what else is new?

Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.'s. Thanks, Goddess of pro-fic.

**The Team:**

– **Chasers**

**6th year Gryffindor, Ginny Weasley **

**3rd year Hufflepuff, Patrice Patil**

**7th year Gryffindor, Hermoine Granger **

**7th year Slytherin, Pansy Parkinson **

**4th year Ravenclaw, Adrienne Abbot **

**5th year Slytherin, Ananda Malfoy**

– **Keepers**

**Captain: 7th year Hufflepuff, Susan Bones **

**7th year Hufflepuff, Hannah Abbot **

– **Seekers**

**2nd year Slytherin, Jessica Bentely **

**6th year Hufflepuff, Betina Johnson **

– **Beaters**

**Captain: 7th year Ravenclaw, Julia Boot **

**7th year Slytherin, Millicent Bulstrode **

**7th year Gryffindor, Pavarti Patil**

**4th year Gryffindor, Natalie McDonald**

"You're good, Weasley."

Ginny, who was wiping her sweaty brow on her discarded Quidditch robes, started and looked up.

"Good," she repeated suspiciously, "but . . . ?" She was waiting for the inevitable insult.

"You're good," Blaise Zabini repeated, shrugging.

"What, nothing about me being good enough for a Muggle secondary team or something?" Ginny snapped in annoyance. He wasn't supposed to be watching them practice! Blaise smirked.

"You couldn't play for Muggle team, actually," he told her. "I have it on good authority that football can't be played on broomsticks."

"Gin!"

Ginny turned back to see her friend, Keeper Hannah Abbot jogging up to her, face glowing. "Gin, that aerial was brilliant! Where'd you pick that up?"

"Last summer." Ginny beamed with pleasure, in spite of Zabini. "Dad got prime tickets to England vs. India Quidditch Cup semi-finals. India's star Chaser, Banhi Lambha – she's wicked cool – she did it, right before a goal. She actually jumped with the ball _through_ the goal hoop. I jumped over. Didn't want to get strung up." Hannah giggled.

"That's a foul, though." Ginny turned back to Blaise, who had been standing and listening. Hannah saw him and looked suddenly nervous.

"It's not," Ginny countered. "I wasn't threatening or touching the Keeper at all. Apparently if you can do it without touching the hoop or the Keeper, it's right as rain. Oh, and there's the small matter of landing on your broom on the other side, of course."

"Huh." Blaise looked impressed.

"Well? Come on, I'm a pig; let's hit the showers," Hannah said, regarding her attire with mild disgust. _Attire_ might have been too strong a word. Apart from her guards, she was clad in short football shorts and a sport's bra, along with run-down cross-trainers. Ginny wasn't too well herself. Her own outfit comprised a worn pair of stretch pants rolled up to her knees, laceless cross-trainers, and a worn tee shirt that read 'I'll hit _your_ Bludger' across the chest.

"Right." Ginny turned to go into the locker rooms.

"Hold up, Red," Blaise called after her. Ginny stopped.

"Go on, Ana, I'll catch you up," she said, returning to Blaise. She could feel Hannah's surprised gaze on her back, but heard the other's footfalls as she turned and jogged off the field.

"What, Zabini?" she asked.

"How much longer are you going to keep this girl's team running?" he asked bluntly.

"Dunno." Ginny shrugged carelessly. "We just play for kicks, you know. We're not leaguers or anything."

"You could be."

"What?" Ginny stared at him, laughing in disbelief. "Look, Zabini, the only reason we got this team up was so those of us girls who didn't make House teams had somewhere to practice and hang out without having to worry about Interhouse rivalries and the like. It's not – it was never _intended_ to be anything earth-shattering."

"But you're not even competing in the Interhouse," he pointed out, pushing off the wall and coming to stand in front of her.

"Who would we play?" she retorted. "First of all, there's enough of us to make up two teams. Second, both teams have students from all four Houses. We can't play against our own Housemates like that. Anyway, who would we win points for, hmm?"

"Fine," Blaise said in irritation. "Only it's a shame to waste the talent some of you have on silly girl's games. You should get a coach and try to game somewhere. Later, Weasley."

"Wait – Zabini!" Ginny's interest was suddenly peaked. She hadn't realized he thought they were _that _good. "Do you know any – ?"

"Gin!" Exasperated, Ginny turned around again. Hermione Granger was jogging toward her, a Nimbus 2001 over her bare shoulder. She was grinning blindingly and glowing. "Lovely workout, wasn't it? Coming to the lockers – oh, hello, Zabini."

Ginny hid a grin as Hermione's voice became wary.

"Zabini, here, thinks we're good, Mione," she said, turning back to Blaise. "He thinks we should get a coach and try competing."

Hermoine looked startled.

"I was just about to tell Weasley about a friend of mine who'd make an ideal coach if you lot want to take this more seriously," the handsome brunette said coolly. Ginny noticed peripherally that Blaise's dark eyes darted over Hermione in rather a different way than they had Ginny herself. Interesting.

"Do you?" Hermione said faintly. "You really think we're good?"

Blaise snorted.

"Put it this way," he said. "I think you're House team's losing a lot by not having you two playing for them. Abbot's no joke either, come to that."

"Then why, if we're so brilliant, do we need a coach?" Hermione asked suspiciously, although Ginny saw that she was flushing with pleasure. It wasn't often Hermione was recognized as being as good a Quidditch player as Ron, Seamus, or Dennis.

"You and Weasley are good, but you've got no technique," Blaise told her, his gaze still intense as he watched her. "Against other girls, you're smashing, but because you haven't any strategy you'd be flattened by a co-ed team. All you need is a coach to give you some play ideas, and a bit of team coordination – and possibly a bit of hardcore training off the brooms – and you'd take down any of the House teams."

"Why's that?" Ginny asked, amazed at receiving such praise from a Slytherin, of all people.

"Because you're girls," he said simply. "You work better together, and you're naturally more in tune with the other players. Plus you're not necessarily as hung up on the glory of it all as you are on hauling arse."

Hermione quirked a smile, and Ginny was quite certain her friend was thinking about Ron.

"You sound as though you've been thinking very hard about this, Zabini," the seventh year said, uncapping her water bottle and taking a swig. "But who's going to want to coach an all-girl's team?"

"That's obvious," Ginny put in knowingly. "Half the blokes in this school would give their right arms to see us play, especially since we won't allow anyone to watch." She threw a pointed look at Blaise, who promptly ignored it. "I've heard the rumors. Most of the school and half the teachers reckon we play in our knickers." She giggled. "Dumbledore laughed when Snape hauled me in to try and get us in trouble about it."

"It _is_ a close thing," Blaise pointed out, eyeing Hermione in a suggestive way, starting from her sweat-spotted white tank top and ending on her microscopic football shorts. Hermione turned very red.

"So – we know we'd have no trouble finding someone to coach," she said hastily. "Question is, do you know someone who's qualified and wouldn't spend the whole bloody time trying to get into our knickers?"

"Can't promise anything, but I do know just the bloke for the job – funny you should ask," Blaise returned a touch sardonically.

Hermoine's expression went from curious to cautious.

"Wait – you don't – you can't mean – "

"He can't play anymore," Blaise said grimly. "He's got chronic marrow deterioration; both wrists. He'll never see a proper match again. But I'll be damned if he gives up like a pansy."

"Like a what, Blaise? Think carefully." Pansy Parkinson came to a halt behind Hermione, a warning brow raised at Blaise. He smirked at her.

"Nothing, lovely," the boy said smoothly. "How much have you heard?"

"It's bollocks!" she snapped. "He'd never do it."

"He'd give both arms to see you beat every House team," Blaise countered.

"_Who_?" Ginny finally demanded. The seventh years turned to stare at her.

"Draco Malfoy," three voices chorused. Ginny gaped, then burst out laughing.

"_Malfoy_?" she gasped, clutching her sides. "You must be joking! He'd never agree to coach Muggleborns. Even if he did, I wouldn't want him here. He'd give us non-Slytherins hell. He still can't resist calling Mione a – a Mudblood," she winced at the horrid name, "whenever he sees her."

"Look at it this way," Blaise said. "He's really more at your mercy than you are at his. If he steps out of line, sack him."

Ginny blinked. That was true, she realized. If he was disrespectful in any way that wasn't purely motivational, they _could _sack him.

"But Malfoy – why would he want to do this?" Hermione demanded. Pansy nodded, clearly as stumped at the other two.

"Three reasons," Blaise said. "First of all, he doesn't want to give up Quidditch. This is the only way he'll get a piece of the action. He can't coach for Slytherin because they don't need it and they'd give him hell about his injury. Wouldn't take him seriously. Next, he's watched you lot. He snuck out one night when you guys somehow talked Hooch and Dumbledore into letting you use the pitch after dark. He thinks you've got potential – and he'd love to be the one to make you famous – or infamous. And finally," Blaise finished, ticking off on his fingers, "he's male. Lots of nearly naked Quidditch babes dancing around is nothing to scoff at. And he'll get locker room privileges."

"Should've known," Ginny said sourly. She turned to Hermione and Pansy. "Well?"

"We should discuss it with the rest of the team," Hermione said. "They'll all have something to say, no doubt."

"Yeah – no doubt," Pansy muttered sarcastically. "Hang around, Blaise. We'll be right back."

Ginny led the two seventh years across the field. She threw a glance back at Blaise and saw him smirking after them. His eyes were still trained on Hermione.

'He knows we won't be able to resist,' she thought, irritated.

"Well?" Pansy asked. "What do you think?"

"Rubbish!" Hermione snapped. "Come on, Parkinson, we'd never hear the end of it. 'Mudblood,' 'Gryffindork,' 'Weaslett.' My god, I'd be surprised if half the team wasn't committed to therapy by the time Malfoy'd run us through!"

"Scared, are you?" Pansy shot back. Ginny rolled her eyes. Although Hermione and Pansy both played Chaser on the team, they still sniped at each other incessantly. Ginny might have had more to say about it, but the seventh years could handle a Quaffle like nobody's business.

"Right – and you're a _Playwizard_ model," Hermione retorted, not even looking at the other. Pansy scowled.

"Ouch!" Ginny muttered.

They entered the steamy lockers and were nearly deafened by the noise the other eleven teamers were making.

"Oi! Who's got my cups?" Beater Pavarti Patil hollered, digging through Keeper Hannah Abbot's open locker in search of her bra.

"Patil! Get out of my locker," Hannah shouted from her partially open shower stall. "You're three sizes bigger than me."

Ginny giggled. It was fun being surrounded by girls from different Houses who let their grudges go long enough to practice every day of the week whenever they could book pitch time. Everyone sort of let go and "let it hang out" as Ravenclaw Chaser Adrienne Abbot, Hannah's 4th year sister, put it.

"Oi, girls!" Pansy bellowed.

"Hey, now!" Ginny covered her ears. "That's a bit shrill, Parkinson."

"Sod you," Pansy said. "Girls," she shouted again. "Listen up!"

As usual, Pansy could get anyone's attention. Thirteen pairs of eyes peered at her from shower stalls, lockers, and benches.

"All right, you lot," Pansy said, her voice still loud. Ginny backed away, hands still over her ears, and several girls giggled. Pansy ignored them. "We've been made an interesting offer."

"I'll bet!" 4th year Beater Natalie McDonald spoke up. "Did Colin finally manage to get into the stadium with a camera?"

The girls all laughed – even Pansy.

"Seriously, girls," she chuckled. "No, nothing that devious. Although, if we ever need a fundraiser, we could auction of locker room pictures – "

More laughter, and several cat calls.

"But at the moment," Hermione called, silencing the noise, "that's not an issue. We've just been offered a coach."

_That_ got everyone's attention.

"A coach?"

"But we don't need – "

"We're just in it for kicks!"

"I think Susie and Jools are quite good enough Captains – "

"Hush up!" Ginny called and everyone went quiet to hear more. "We've just had Blaise Zabini, of all people, tell us we're dynamite and could go pro if we were trained up a bit."

An explosion of protest met this comment.

"_Zabini_ was in here?"

"Mione, a _boy_ was watching?"

"I'll kick his arse, the sneaky git!"

"_Professional_?"

"Yes, Zabini's had a peek!" Hermione called, again ushering in a silence. "And he thinks we're good. He says we could be leaguers if we had a bit of strategy. And he's got someone who'd be willing – supposedly – to train us up."

The room was so silent you could have heard a pin drop.

"Who is it?" sixth year Seeker Betina Johnson asked tremulously.

"It's a boy," Pansy cut in. "But," she called over the angry buzz of voices, "he's good. No Harry Potter, admittedly, but definitely good for strategy."

"Who?" 7th year Captain and Beater Julia Boot demanded loudly.

"Draco Malfoy," Ginny, Hermoine, and Pansy said at once.

The lockers were silent for a few moments, and then an explosive burst of indignation, shock, and amusement shook the room.

"It's a lost cause," Pansy snorted, flopping down into a chair and stretching out, clearly making herself comfortable for the long haul. Ginny and Hermione sat as well, waiting patiently for a reprieve in the buzz.

It came when fifth year Chaser Ananda Malfoy said loudly, "Why would Draco want anything to do with us? My cousin's as biased as they come! We're girls – and Muggleborns, some of us – _and_ some of us are Puffies and Gryffs." She shook back her blonde hair. Ananda was a Slytherin, and Draco's first cousin to boot. Still, there was no blatant disrespect in her tone. One of the rules strictly enforced was that House boundaries were _not_ observed or taken into consideration during practice. Any breaking of this rule led almost assuredly led to removal from the team.

Bottom Line: Intolerance was not tolerated.

"According to Blaise, Draco still wants to be involved with Quidditch," Pansy told her Housemate. "He can't play because of his injury from last season, but he doesn't want to let Quidditch go. He can't train for Slytherin because they'd laugh in his face. He's also seen us – " she waited for the indignant babble to abate – "and he would love to make us famous. Plus, come _on_, Nanda. Look around you. Fourteen gorgeous, fit girlies. Who _wouldn't_ want to train us?"

A ripple of laughter echoed around the room.

"So," Ginny went on. "We've got two decisions to make – and I reckon we need a unanimous vote here. Number one, are we willing to try and compete with other teams, maybe even try to play as a pro team? And number two, are we willing to let Malfoy have a go?"

Her questions were met with a heavy silence. It was broken by Beater Millicent Bulstrode.

"Draco's not exactly nice," she said, smirking at Ananda, "but he's got what it takes to make us good. And _we're_ not exactly runts." Several people laughed as she subtly flexed her well-honed Beater muscles. She smirked wider, going on, "Anyway, if he's a dick we can kick him out and keep going at it. I say let's go!"

Murmurs of ascent broke out all over the locker room.

"I think I like it, too," Captain and Keeper Susan Bones spoke up quietly. Ginny had always marveled at how shy Susie was, but how flawlessly she could manage a team. "Like Millicent said, we_ could_ sack him."

"All right, let's put it to a vote," Ginny suggested. "All in favor of letting a boy in on our genius, raise you hand."

Fourteen hands rose into the air.

"I knew you'd like it," came a cool voice from the doorway.

"Zabini!" Hermione snapped as the eleven partially dressed players shrieked and dove for cover. Pansy and Ginny turned to look as Blaise Zabini sauntered in anyway.

"So, can I tell Draco to get off his arse starting tomorrow?" Blaise asked, smirking as Pavarti's third year sister Patrice dove into a shower stall in her bra and knickers and Betina Johnson fumbled with a towel as she tried to cover herself.

"Oh, yeah," Pansy said, quirking a brow at him. "But _you_ aren't welcome back."

Blaise scowled at her.

"Look, I'm the one who hooked you up – "

"And you did a good job," Ginny nodded, taking his arm and leading the indignant seventh year from the locker rooms. "But now you're out – sorry."

"Bloody jip!" Blaise muttered, but instead of pushing Ginny off his arm, he draped it around her shoulders and led her along with him.

"Wait – what're you doing?" she demanded, trying without success to pull away.

"Why, my dear Weasley," Blaise said, feigning shock, "your new coach will of course want to know immediately so he can begin preparing his intensive training – "

"But _I_'m not a captain!" Ginny told him as he dragged her along. "He'll need to speak to Jools or Susie – "

"Bones is a silly Huffy and Boot's never had to deal with Draco before," Blaise pointed out.

"Then let Mione or Parkinson or something," Ginny retorted rather desperately.

"Look, Weaslett," Blaise stopped and turned to face her. "When Malfoy saw you fly – well, it was like he was possessed! He would never admit it, but he wants the job because of you. He wants_ you _to be great."

"But there're other girls on the team who are loads better than me," Ginny protested. "Patrice's amazing! She makes my aerials look like accidents. Pansy's like a bullet, Mione's got the best strategic mind on the team – "

Blaise shrugged.

"Personally, I'd agree that you're good but not the best," the dark boy conceded as he led her toward the castle. "But Draco's eyes haven't left you since he watched you play. He'll want to train _you_."

"Zabini," Ginny said, frowning suspiciously. "Draco did _say_ he wanted to do this thing, right? I mean, it sounds like it, but then you say these little things that make it sound like he _would_ want to if he were asked. I mean, he _did_ ask you to ask us if he could train us, right?"

"Ah, yes," Blaise said, his tone becoming neutral. "I'd meant to mention that. He doesn't – er, _know_ yet."

"Oh, really?" Ginny stopped dead, yanking out of Blaise's grip and glowering murderously at him. "So this whole thing was _your_ idea? Parkinson and Mione and I got the girls all wound up about being leaguers and you go and tell me _he doesn't know he's our coach_?"

"He will know," Blaise said rather smugly. "As you're about to go and tell him."

"No _way_!" Ginny snapped, turning and preparing to return to the lockers.

"Wait, Weasley!" Blaise grabbed her arm. "I _did_ say he wanted to train you, right? Said rather wistfully he'd love to be the one to put Ginny sodding Weasley up for Puddlemere."

"But training our girls' team was . . . _not_ his idea?" Ginny said wearily. "Zabini, he'll never do it!"

"He admits you're good," Blaise insisted. "Just point out that he could be responsible for helping – no, for _creating_, got to appeal to his vanity – the first all-women's pro Quidditch team in history – never mind that it isn't really the first; he'll never know. And make sure he knows you don't train unless the other girls do. An ultimatum, you know. Also mention how hacked off it'll make Potter and you brother."

Ginny thought about it. She supposed Draco _would_ be a good coach. Especially, now that she thought about it, with the Slytherin ambition backing him up. Admittedly she and the girls didn't know the first thing about _really_ training. They just sort of figured it out as they played. A lot of their improvement came from daily practice. But with Draco planning their workouts they could conceivably training five days instead of seven and develop the proper workouts depending on which position they played and . . .

Blaise was smirking at her, evidently knowing exactly what she was thinking.

"Oh, all right," Ginny snapped at last. "I'll talk to him. But one 'Oh, look, it's the poor little Weaslett' remark and I'm skiving off."

"Fair enough," Blaise said, and looping an arm around her again, he led her off to the castle.

_TBC_

14


	2. The Coach

A/N: I know, I know, where's the new chapter? For my own piece of mind, I need to be editing earlier chapters of this fic whilst crafting newer chapters simultaneously. So here's an edited chapter, with emphasis on better and more accurate writing. New chapter out soon!

Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.'s. Sincerest thanks to the Goddess of pro-fic.

Chapter 2

Draco Malfoy was in tears.

Distantly, he could hear the sound of a scuffle and angry shouts, but he was crying too hard to see anything properly.

"Malfoy!" Blaise's voice was sharp and a bit labored. "This is no time to take the mickey. She was bloody serious!"

"Sor – sorry!" Draco gasped, his sides aching. "But my god, that's the funniest thing I've ever heard!"

And he was off again. He was going to do himself an injury. Ah, well; the look on the Weaslett's face was worth it as she continued to struggle in Blaise's arms.

"Zabini, let – me – go!" she snarled. "I told you he'd do this, I_ told _you!"

"Get a grip!" Blaise snapped. "You, as well, Draco!"

Gasping for air and feeling his pink cheeks cool a bit, Draco tried without success to remove the smirk from his face.

"So let me see if I've got this right," he wheezed. "You little girls want me, Draco _Pureblood_ Malfoy, to train up a bunch of Mudbloods, Muggle-Lovers, and Potter fans into a pro team. Have I got that right?"

"No!" Ginny glowered at him, her chest rising and falling in furious rhythm. "We were told you could make us better. We wanted you to coach for a bit. _Zabini_'s the one who said you wanted to see us go pro – I was just silly enough to believe you'd go that far for anyone."

"Oh, did I hurt your feelings?" Draco leaned back against the stair above the one on which he sat and stared with great amusement up at the towering redhead. "Poor little Weaslett."

"I told you!" She rounded on Blaise again. "_I told you_ he'd say that! Forget, Zabini, I'm done making a fool of myself."

She put on a great burst of strength and broke free of Blaise.

"I doubt that, Weaslett!" Draco called after her, still sneering.

Without a backward glance, she stalked the length of the Entrance Hall and shoved the front doors wide open in her wake.

"You arse!" Blaise groaned. "What'd you go brassing her off for?"

"Did you actually tell them I'd coach?" Draco asked, ignoring his best friend's question. "Were you pissed at the time, because I wouldn't train a team of little girlies if the Dark Lord himself told me to!"

"You're completely pathetic," Blaise countered coldly. "A silly injury and now you're too scared to watch other people play – gods, Draco, you _saw _them fly! They aren't 'little girlies.' They're hot-blooded, extremely talented Quidditch demons who've got the stones and the skill to make it big."

"Why do _you_ care?" Draco demanded, getting to his feet and leading the way toward the dungeons, where he had been headed before being accosted in the entrance hall by Blaise and the Weaslett.

"Because I'm sick to death of watching you skulk around acting like a martyr," Blaise said sharply. "I'm tired of listening to you bitch at Pans whenever she and Mill talk about Quidditch. Come to that, I'm sick of you jumping all over _anyone _who talks about Quidditch in your high-and-mighty presence. I'm sick of you acting like a noble hero type because you got injured. The injury wasn't even your fault – you weren't hurt doing some spectacular, game-winning stunt, were you?"

"We won the game," Draco muttered.

"Because you were playing _Hufflepuff_," Blaise said sharply. "Since Diggory kicked the bucket they haven't seen a decent Seeker. If you'd been playing Potter, you'd have gone down in two seconds."

"Sod off!" Draco snarled. Above all things, he hated being compared to Harry wanking Potter. Blaise was cruising for a detention _and_ a good arse-kicking.

"To be perfectly honest, I'm your friend and I know what's best for you," Blaise finished triumphantly.

"That's _it_?" Draco stared at him. "You've become my goddamn _mum_? Got me one too many of those already, thanks."

"Would you _listen_?" Blaise said sharply. "Look, I know you're interested – especiallyin Weasley. She's really good, although even she admits she's not up with Pans or Granger, or even Abbot. But come on, Draco, you know what they can do. It's obvious that they're working like dogs already, and with instruction from someone who's played and competed before they could kick arse. They'd flatten the House Teams. _Imagine Harry Potter's face_ when Draco Malfoy trains a team better than Gryffindor's ever seen."

That might have been going a bit far, Draco thought grudgingly. Unfortunately, Gryffindor's prospects were better than they had been in over a hundred years – or at least that's what McGonagall had smugly informed Snape a few days ago. Anyway, it would take a sodding miracle to train a Seeker who could outstrip Potter – even Draco was willing to give the git that much credit.

A miracle, yes – but it _could_ be done. Potter wasn't infallible.

"And just imagine," Blaise finished, probably fully aware that he had Draco convinced already, "the look on Ron Weasley's face when he discovers that his worst enemy is training his _girl _and his _baby sister_. Imagine what he'll try to do when he hears you've got _locker room privileges._"

"All right, all right!" Draco cut it, half glaring, half sneering. "Fine! I'm convinced. Shut up."

Blaise smirked for the rest of the evening.

Ginny was still seething the next morning.

She should have known! Bloody Malfoy – what had she been thinking? Honestly – taking Blaise Zabini's advice.

Beside her, Hermione, Natalie, and Pavarti were also sulking into their porridge. Ginny had caught the team right as most of them were emerging from the lockers and explained in an extremely heated fashion that it had all been a high-jinx and no one was going pro now.

Needless to say, the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had been as outraged and disappointed as Ginny. The Slytherins had done their own bit of Malfoy-bashing, but apparently decided that he wasn't worth wasting emotion over.

"Get a grip. We're still a brilliant team," Millicent had advised them all. "We'll still have fun. Anyway, who wants a lad fucking things up?"

This didn't make Ginny feel any better; nor, apparently, did it console any of the others. Glancing over toward the other House tables, Ginny saw Parvati's sister Patrice, Hannah Abbot, Betina Johnson, and Captain Susie Bones huddled together at the Hufflepuff table. At Ravenclaw, Captain Jools Boot and Adrienne Abbot were glowing at Draco and muttering to each other.

The girls didn't have much contact outside their everyday team practice. The House rivalries amongst the fourteen girls were more relaxed, but other than that, one would never have picked out the team girls from a crowd without paying very close attention. The knowledge that there _was_ a team was known, but who played for it and when the team practiced were facts not widely advertised.

"God, look at him over there," Parvati muttered from Ginny's right, glowering daggers at the cool blonde. "Sneering as though he owns the sodding place."

"Would anyone object if I clubbed him to death?" Natalie asked, grinding her teeth and cracking her knuckles.

"I would," Hermione said, adding, to everyone's surprise, "Imagine the points you'd waste Gryffindor over his worthless hide."

Hermione, to everyone's amazement, had been the most volatile about Draco's less-than-respectful reply to Ginny's request. However, Hermione, unlike Ginny, could take out her vile temper by putting people in detention if they put so much as a toe out of line.

"Doesn't matter anyway," the prefect went on, pouring syrup on her pancakes. "We've done well so far, haven't we?"

_But he could have made us something more_, Ginny thought ruefully. He _had_ played competitively, hadn't he? He had overseen proper team practices. The girls always had fun and worked on what they _did_ know, developing many of their own moves, but as Blaise had pointed out, they only knew how to play girls.

Well, Ginny did know a bit about playing with lads, but her brothers had always coddled her and she had only played a couple of serious matches during her brief stint on the Gryffindor team during her fourth year.

"What's he doing?" Natalie said suddenly. Ginny looked up from her plate. Draco was standing, rather menacingly, Ginny thought, over the Ravenclaw table, talking softly to Jools. The girl still looked mutinous, but after a moment, she got to her feet and dragged him from the Hall.

"What was that about?" Parvati said in amazement.

They found out later that day.

"'Team meeting and practice, 3pm,'" Ginny read aloud off the slip of parchment she received during lunch. Glancing up, she saw her Hufflepuff and Slytherin teammates huddled together and evidently reading parchment of their own. At the Ravenclaw table, Jools was whispering to Adrienne.

"Wonder why Jools called such an early practice," Parvati mused, looking over the short letter again. "Normally, there would be a House team practicing during that time."

"She _has_ gone to Hooch and the headmaster before about us getting extra time, though, hasn't she?" Hermione said thoughtfully. "Maybe she thinks – "

"Hi, girls." They glanced up as Harry and Ron sat down across from them. The girls shared a quick look and Ginny casually stuffed the letter into her pocket.

"What was that, Gin?" Harry asked, helping himself to a roast potato.

"Note from Hagrid," she lied easily. She never spoke about the team around Ron and Harry if she could help it and she got the impression that Hermione didn't talk about it, either. Ginny wasn't sure whether or not the boys knew which of their Housemates were on the team, but she had a funny feeling she knew what their reactions would be. Harry would react with curiosity, wanting to know everything about them and probably wanting to see them practice. He might not like his own Housemates competing against him, but he wouldn't ask them to stop if it made them happy. Indeed, Quidditch was one of the few things that made _Harry_ smile anymore, Ginny thought with a stab of guilt. It didn't seem fair that they were giving Draco such a fabulous opportunity when Harry deserved it – or at least deserved the privilege of the first offer. He would probably have turned it down out of principle; he was devoted to the Gryffindor team, after all. Still . . .

Ron was another matter. His reaction to their team would be to laugh at Hermione for 'thinking she could play Quidditch' (which she could, Ginny thought in irritation) and get angry that Ginny was playing hardball with girls from (gasp) _other Houses_. He might not object once he had adjusted to the idea, but he probably wouldn't take them too seriously anyway.

They might find out someday, but not today, Ginny decided.

"So, what's the agenda after classes?" Ron asked, spooning casserole onto his plate.

"Classes and homework, as usual," Hermione shrugged evasively.

"Actually," Ron leaned in closer to her, "Harry and I have some _stuff_ we wanted your help with after classes. Interested?"

"Ménage trois, eh?" Natalie said cheekily. Ron went furiously red, Harry sputtered into his pumpkin juice, and Parvati began to giggle uncontrollably.

"That's sick-making, Nat!" Ginny chortled, delighted to see the Dream Team blushing crimson and making various disgusted noises. She decided to have a go.

"Anyway," she said conspiratorially, a suggestive note in her voice. "Mione and I already have plans for tonight."

"Ginny!" Hermione said in a mock-scandalized tone, cottoning on. "They aren't to know about _that_! What would people _think_?"

"I heard you two aren't the only ones – involved?" Parvati put in, with a provocative lift of her delicate brows.

"Oh, no," Natalie added, "There're a bunch of others, of course. And Jools," she began to giggle as well, "is bringing the . . . equipment."

"You four," Ron said, his face the color of a beet, "are disgusting! You've put me off my lunch. Come on, Harry."

The girls were laughing so hard that they didn't even see the horrified look on Harry's face as he followed his friend quickly away.

"That was brilliant!" Natalie gasped, leaning on Ginny for support.

Hermione wiped her eyes on her napkin and glanced at her watch. "We'd best get to our next lessons."

The Gryffindor girls were still inclined to giggle as they made their way across the front lawn to the pitch later that afternoon.

"In the lockers," Millicent told them shortly as they met up with her, Pansy, Ananda Malfoy, and Jessica Bentely halfway to the pitch. Parvati hiccupped and Hermione stifled another snigger. The Slytherins looked at them suspiciously, but didn't ask questions.

"Any idea what Jools wants to discuss with us?" Hermione asked, her lips twitching.

"An _idea_," Ananda said. "Jools wouldn't tell Pans and Draco's been smirking worse than ever all bleeding day."

"You don't think he changed his mind?" Ginny stared at her in horror, all humor forgotten.

"Dunno, Weasley." Ananda quirked an eyebrow. "Excited, are you?"

"Hardly!" Ginny snapped. "Bloody git."

"Git, he may be," Hermione assented, her eyes narrowing and her face straight. "But he'd be a good coach if he put his mind to it."

"What makes you say that, Granger?" Pansy asked, looking rather surprised.

"Common sense," Hermoine returned, holding the locker room door open for them. "He's played competitively for six years. He's a boy and knows how they play. And he's a Slytherin. Ambition is what an aspiring team needs."

"Deep, Granger," Pansy said sarcastically.

Ginny followed Jessica in and found that the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were already there. Susie and Jools were standing in front of the others, who were seated in a semi-circle on the floor facing them. They all turned to greet the new arrivals.

Ginny glanced up again at the co-Captains – and her eyes hardened as she noticed Draco Malfoy standing between them. He was leaning back against the wall and looking utterly relaxed – even smug. Ginny ground her teeth. The cheeky bastard!

He glanced up then, saw her angry face, and smirked broadly.

"Damn him!" Ginny spat, taking a seat between Patrice Patil and Betina Johnson on the bench.

"Irritating prat," Patrice agreed. "Still, Zabini was right. He's worth putting up with."

"See my excited face?" Ginny grumbled. Betina and Patrice giggled.

"All right, ladies, pipe down!" Jools called sharply. The babble died away, but started up again almost at once as those who hadn't noticed Draco before made loud noises of disbelief.

"I said stow it!" Jools glared around at them all, giving Ginny a particularly stern look.

"I assume you all know why Susie and I called this meeting," the Ravenclaw said when the lockers finally fell silence. "Do to some – er, _personal_ reasons of his own, Draco has reconsidered his decision not to coach us."

"What'd you have to bribe him with?" Ginny demanded, glowering at him. She wasn't quite ready to forgive the embarrassment he had inflicted.

"Retract your claws, Weasel," Draco said calmly. "I've had a change of heart, is all."

"Doesn't it take a heart for that?" she retorted, with a disbelieving lift of her eyebrows. Several girls sniggered.

"Cool it, Gin," Jools ordered, turning up the evil eye.

"See me tremble in fear," Ginny deadpanned, but quietly enough so that Jools didn't see her.

"Anyway," Jools went on, her eye still on Ginny. "Draco's devised a whole new training program for us, but for today he's just going to watch and see how well we'd do under his routine."

The girls usually came in their workout gear, preferring not to waste valuable practice time changing in the lockers. Everyone stripped down to her shorts and ragged old tee shirts. Some of the younger girls blushed a bit ("there's _a boy_ in here – giggle giggle").

Ginny rolled her eyes and yanked off her robes, tossing them onto a bench and going into her locker for her Nimbus 2001. It wasn't valuable enough that it was likely to get stolen, but Ginny kept a magical lock on in nonetheless.

"_Eat dirt, Malfoy_," she whispered the password and the locker sprang open.

"Creative, Weasley," came Draco's drawl from behind her.

"I speak only the truth, Mal-ferret," she said coolly, pulling out her broom, slamming the locker door, and stalking passed him.

"Gin." Susie came up beside her.

"Captain," Ginny said, mock-saluting.

"Gin, sweetheart, you've really got to stop antagonizing Malfoy," Susie said, though she smiled faintly at Ginny's antics.

"I'm not antagonizing him!" Ginny snapped. "Suse, he made a fool out of me when _I _asked him. What a foul, disgusting – "

"Listen, I don't like him any more than you do," Susie said, taking Ginny's arm and leading her a way off from the others, who were also emerging from the lockers. "But he's going to be your coach, and he's going to be hard on you. You've got to learn to control yourself or you're going to put a lot of strain on yourself and the team." Susie stopped and turned to face her, smiling gently. "I _know_ he's a pompous git, but if you don't respond, he won't be able to get you. Anyway, I think he'll turn out like the rest of us eventually. He'll see how good we are and get excited about coaching. And any good coach or captain will tell you that the key to a functional team is a supportive coach."

Ginny sighed.

"You're right, I'm sorry," she mumbled, although she meant it. She covered her face with her hands. "I really will try to behave."

"Hey." Susie rested her hands on Ginny's shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. "Nothing too drastic now."

Ginny peaked through her fingers with a crooked smile.

"Right," Susie said, nodding and stepping back. "Get in the air, girl."

"Laps!" Jools was barking. "Five each way – and no cutting corners, Parkinson."

"Oh, shove off!" Pansy said, mounting her broom and kicking off from the ground. She noticed Ginny and hovered just above her head. "Care for a race, Weasley?"

"Gladly," Ginny responded, taking a running jump and landing sideways on her broom handle. Kicking her right leg over the handle, she leaned as far forward as she could and shot off after Pansy.

Practice that day was particularly satisfying for Ginny. Feeling the need to swipe the insufferable smirk off Draco's face – he was sitting with Jools and Susie, watching the others work – she performed her best moves and trickiest tricks flawlessly. She noticed with delight that Hermoine was flying better than ever. She and Pansy worked together on strategy and some of the more complicated plays that Ginny, Patrice, Ananda, and Adrienne weren't quite up to.

"Gin," Susie called her down after about a half-hour of passing warm-ups. Ginny dipped into a steep dive and came to hover five feet above the ground. "Good passing up there, but move faster. A Beater could have taken you while you were waiting for the Quaffle."

"Right," Ginny nodded, wiping sweat from her brow.

"Excellent goal, though," Jools put in. "Reckon you could make it passed your brother."

"Thanks!" Ginny beamed, grateful for the praise.

"You going to work on aerials today?" Jools asked. Ginny let her eyes flick to Draco for a moment. To her surprise, he wasn't smirking, but watching her intently. She felt a tingle of nervousness – she could tell he was assessing her.

"Yeah – yeah I was," she said, turning her full attention back to her captains. "Mione's been dying to give it a go."

"Be careful," Susie warned quietly. "Hermione's really fast, but I'm not sure she's up to something like that yet. Her specialty tends to be passing and catching, remember."

"If you _do _decide to work with her or any of the other Chasers today, set up a safety net," Jools ordered.

"Right." She was about to take her broom back up when Draco spoke.

"Make sure you work with Pans and Granger on passing, Weasel," he said. His voice was unreadable. "I saw three opportunities up there for an easy interception and they were all when you were waiting for the Quaffle."

"Don't call me Weasel." But Ginny gave him a short nod, and took flight again. She was tempted to take offense that he was laying all the blame for the hole on her, but his tone while he'd spoken was different than she'd even heard before.

"_Draco's eyes haven't left you since he watched you play. He'll want to train you._"

Blaise Zabini's words came back to her as she rose twenty, thirty, forty feet above the blonde and took off toward the goal. Was he really so eager to train her that he'd drop his "poor little Weasel" spiel?

Another half-hour of passing, followed by more goal practice, and Jools and Susie called them back down.

"We're going to pair off," the latter said. "We'll change teams a couple of times, then stretch out and call it quits."

Ginny wound up with Patrice and Ananda, and she had a feeling that was no accident. She caught a look at Draco's face, and he was smirking faintly. She scowled at him. He knew how good Hermione and Pansy were and had evidently talked Jools into teaming them together.

_Probably to make a point_, she thought irritably, mounting and following Patrice into the air. Ananda had remained on the ground and Ginny could hear her arguing with Draco. Apparently, the fifth year Chaser had gotten the same impression as Ginny about her mischievous cousin.

"It was him," Ananda told Ginny angrily as they got into position. "Said he wanted to see Granger and Pansy again, but I know that was only part of it."

"Jools knows we're no match for those two unless we're within twenty feet of the keep," Patrice agreed, but she sounded thoughtful rather than annoyed. "Ready for some fancy flying, you two?"

"Yup." Ananda narrowed her eyes, as the opposing teams lined up in the center of the pitch.

"On the bright side, we've got Jools," Ginny said rather dully. She felt her blood boil as Draco stood below, hawk-like eyes on her – _again_. He was waiting to see her fail, she just knew it. He stood beside the box that held the four balls, his foot on the latch.

"We'll go for four goals, girls," Jools said loudly. "Bentely, Johnson – keep your eyes open for the Snitch and try to get to it before the Chasers have their way, right?"

Ginny liked this method of team practice, even if the teams were, at the moment, unfairly divided in more than one way. With the Seekers timed, they were forced to look harder and develop more of a Snitch-spotting eye. Usually, the teams would switch players every four goals, with the Seekers continuing to hunt for the Snitch. Team switching and practice would end with the capture of the Snitch.

Jessica Bentely and Betina Johnson were well on the way to becoming the best Seekers Ginny had ever seen thanks to this method of training. Jools and Susan had kept the team out for hours before, magically lighting the pitch when one match went on well into the night.

"Oy, up there!" Everyone looked down at Draco. "I'm letting the Bludgers and Snitch out." A second later, the Quaffle joined the other balls. The game was on.

Ginny had known that Hermione would get to the Quaffle before her. So had Patrice and Ananda. None of them had even bothered going for the ball. Instead, they had shot off down the field to position themselves for intercepts. They all knew their only hope, at the moment, lay in intercepting a pass to or from Adrienne – who, though good, was not up to Pansy or Hermione's level.

Ginny, who happened to be closest to Adrienne, waited until she saw Hermione draw level. She grinned – she knew this ploy. She saw the Quaffle feinted to Hermione. Hermoine reached out, deliberately missing, and blocking a charging Patrice. It was caught neatly by Pansy, and although they were in a perfect strategic position, Pansy made the mistake of throwing the Quaffle back to Adrienne. Ginny shot between them, intercepting the ball and darting off toward the opposite end of the pitch.

A Bludger sailed passed her ear, hit by Natalie, who was playing for the opposing team.

"Thanks a lot!" Ginny called as her friend shot passed after the Bludger, grinning shamelessly.

"Weasley – " Ginny heard Ananda's voice and heard the whoosh of another player coming down fast above her. She was going to have to hand off the Quaffle if she was going to get in position to score.

She threw a glance around her, saw Hermione, Pansy, and Adrienne forming up around herself and Ananda, and lifted her arms up, passing the ball to the fifth year Chaser. Then she darted toward the goal.

Here was her greatest weakness. Either Ananda or Patrice was going to have to throw her the Quaffle in order for her to score and Ginny was not too good at catching.

It was Patrice who threw the ball, and Pansy who darted in and intercepted easily. She banked sharply and shot off toward Hermione. Ginny groaned.

It was the combination of Ginny's skill at scoring and Hannah Abbot's skill at goal keeping that led their team to taking three of the four goals.

"All right, girls, back to the ground!" Jools called, motioning the panting teams down. Ginny lifted up her shirt and wiped her brow.

"Good game, Gin!" Hermione said, flying level with her.

"You, too," Ginny grinned back. Although it was frustrating that she'd only actually caught about ten of the throws intended for her (she'd done far better at intercepting) she always felt good after a hard game.

"Okay," Susie said as they touched down. "We'll do a swap. I want Pansy and Patrice to switch."

"Go figure," Pansy muttered to Hermione, who smiled wanly.

"And I want – let's see – I want Mill and Nat on the same team," Jools put in. "And Hannah, I want you and Gin against each other, so swap."

"Anything else, Malfoy?" Susie asked quietly.

"Yeah," he said, scrutinizing all of them. "I want Weasel playing with Pansy and Granger."

Jools and Susie both stared at him. They had intentionally moved Pansy away from Hermione so the other Chasers would have a fair chance. They'd never really put Ginny with Pansy _and_ Hermione because their combine skill made them almost impossible for the other three Chasers to beat.

"Just an experiment," Draco said casually. "I want to see if Granger and Pansy can make up for Weasel's inability to catch."

Ginny glowered at him. Hermione put a comforting arm around her, but didn't object. She was looking to Susie and Jools.

"All right, we'll give it a shot," Susie said after a moment. "Those are the changes. Get in the air."

As it turned out, Draco had been right, though perhaps not in the way he'd meant to be. Hermione and Pansy were so good that they didn't have to pass to Ginny at all. They simply tossed and caught until they were close enough to the goal to practically hand Ginny the Quaffle. Ginny put four goals away with no trouble, as just as she threw the Quaffle through for a last goal, Betina came soaring passed her over the hoop, Jessica on her tail. Betina gave a whoop and held aloft the Snitch.

Everyone clapped and cheered, although Jessica looked rather sulky, and floated back to the ground.

"Excellent practice, everyone!" Jools called over the excited chatter of the teammates. "We'll stretch out and then hit the lockers."

Ginny flopped down in the grass between Ananda and Natalie. The team organized themselves into a circle and straddled their legs, stretching their taut muscles.

"Ugh – who would have thought this would feel nice?" Natalie joked, stretching out flat on her stomach and turning a mischievous grin on Ginny.

"Oh, hush up," the redhead retorted. "It's only nice if you're flexible." She leaned forward, feeling the sharp pull of the protesting muscles in her inner thighs.

"You could be flexible, too, Weasel," came a soft drawl from behind her. She was about to sit up and ask if he was offering to help (with just a touch of sarcastic innuendo), when she felt a knee in the center of her back. He was pushing her further into the stretch, forcing her just low enough that she could still stand it. Barely.

"Get _off_, Malfoy!" she snapped, gasping her breath. He wasn't hurting her, but he was making sure she got a nice, _long_ stretch.

"That's 'coach' to you, Weasel," he retorted. "Now start breathing."

"I _am_ breathing!" she snarled back.

"No, you're hyperventilating," he retorted. "Deep breaths, Weasel. Breath into the stretch. It'll hurt less, I promise."

"The promise of a Malfoy," she muttered. She did, however, take a deep, controlled breath, focusing on the straining muscles. Several more, and she felt herself relaxing into the stretch.

"Good, little Weasel," came Draco's soft voice. The knee left her spine and Ginny started to sit up. "Stay put," Draco added lazily. Ginny growled – but remembering Susie's words from before practice, she did as he told her.

Draco made a slow circuit around the girls, before pausing behind Hermione, the most flexible of the group after Natalie and Patrice, who had her stomach flat on the ground.

"That the best you can do, Granger?" Draco mocked.

"Dig me a hole and I'll go further down," Hermoine said coolly. "I'm as far down as its possible to get with the ground and all."

"Fine – we'll try something else, then." Draco motioned for her to stay put and sat down in front of her. Bracing his feet against each of her ankles, he took her hands and pushed her legs further apart, simultaneously pulling her forward.

"That better?" he asked, smirking.

"'Better' might be the wrong term," Hermione gasped. "But I can certainly feel it."

After a minute or so of 'Hermione torture,' Draco let her up and made his rounds of the rest of the girls. Ginny scowled. Stretching, usually a time for idle chitchat, was going to be a lot less enjoyable from now on, she realized.

At last, Jools called time and they all hit the lockers.

"Does he really get locker room privileges?" Betina asked Susie nervously.

"Afraid so," Susie said, although she had a faintly amused smile on her lips.

"Let him goggle," Ginny grouched under her breath to Hermione and Natalie.

"Not a lot there to goggle at, little Weasel," came the dratted drawl from behind her. Ginny froze, took two deep breaths, and continued on without replying.

The loud locker room jabber calmed her a bit, and soon she was laughing with Ananda, Natalie, and Jessica, who were comparing Gregory Goyle to a lot of extremely inappropriate things.

When at last Ginny got a shower to herself, she took a long soak, feeling her muscles relax under the heavy jet of water. She scrubbed her hair, washed her face, and brushed her teeth (she was a thorough girl) before reaching between the shower curtains for a towel.

"Looking for this, Weasel?" came a soft drawl from the other side of the curtain.

"Give it here, Malfoy!"

"Say 'coach.'"

"How about 'horrid, wankering, little ferret?'"

"Ginny!" several girls said, their scandalized tones belied by giggles.

"Afraid that won't do, Weasel," he said, amusement evident.

"Here, Gin," Hermione's voice came coolly from the next stall and a large fluffy towel dropped into Ginny's head. Ginny wrapped the towel securely around her torso, wrung her hair out, and stepped out of the shower. She was grateful that the towel went almost all the way down to her knees because Draco was standing right outside the curtain, waiting for her.

"Yes, is there something you want?" Ginny demanded tartly, nonetheless stalking passed him toward her locker.

"You'd do well to learn some respect, Weaslett," he retorted, following her to the bench in front of her locker. "How many laps so you think another insult like that warrants?"

"Look," said Ginny, whirling to face him. "I don't care if you have me doing laps for the rest of my sodding life. I will_ not _play along with your little game – whatever the hell it is – and I will _not _be respectful until you _earn it_."

She turned away, her chest rising a falling heavily.

"Gin." She turned back to see Draco stalking away across the locker room and Jools standing in front of her, looking stern.

"Yeah?" Ginny sighed, rubbing her eyes.

"Get dressed and we'll take a walk." It wasn't a suggestion.

"All right," Ginny grumbled. She knew she was in trouble.

Checking that Draco was across the room making Betina, Adrienne, and Parvati nervous, Ginny lowered the towel so it was around her waist. She pulled on her bra and shirt, shaking out her short red hair. She pulled her on knickers and dropped the towel. She was well beyond the point of caring what boys thought of her. She wasn't thin, or even slim, but she was tall and well built and she was confident enough in her own appearance not to be embarrassed in locker rooms.

She tugged on a pair of jeans, pulled on her socks and trainers, and put her broom back in her locker. Bundling her training outfit under her arm, she turned back to Jools.

"All right, then," she said. "Let's go."

Draco was still seething as he made his way down to the kitchens well past curfew – he'd missed dinner.

In the beginning, he'd been rather excited once he saw what the girls were capable of. They were damn near brilliant, if truth be told, and he was beginning to see why Blaise had assumed he'd want to train them.

Weasley, though . . .

She was amazing! Sure, she had her weak spots and wasn't up to Pansy or even – he hated to admit it – Granger. But she'd been working on aerial goals for a good long while, according to one of the Captains (Draco couldn't remember and didn't really care what their names were), and she was well beyond good at them.

Still, the nerve of the little girl! He was used to _running_ a team – he'd been team captain for a year before his injury. Anyway, she was supposed to be afraid of him, not angry and sullen. So he'd teased her a little . . . he snorted. It had been funny as hell when she had come skipping up with Zabini, looking all flustered and excited. And the look on her face when he'd laughed in it – he smirked in spite of himself.

Unfortunately, the little Hufflepuff captain had been right in warning Ginny that misbehavior from one member could damage the team as a whole. Without the cooperation of one, the whole team became unbalanced.

Well, he'd teach little Weasel to disobey him.

TBC


	3. The Backer

Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.'s. Sincerest thanks to the Goddess of pro-fic..

**)BW(**

Chapter 3

**)BW(**

Draco was still in a rather foul humor a week into his new coaching job, Ginny was pleased to note. She knew that she was the cause and she was thoroughly enjoying her power – much to the disquiet of the team captains.

"Gin," Jools had said as the walked slowly around the pitch the night after Draco had first observed one of their practices. "You're a spitfire by nature, right? The girls and I adore you and wouldn't trade your mental-ness for anything. But Susie and I aren't really _in charge_ anymore. Yes," she added quickly, seeing Ginny open her mouth to protest, "Ultimately we still have the final word – the whole team does – but Malfoy calls the shots now. And like I'm sure Susie's point out to you already, he can only get to you if you let him."

"What a git," Ginny had muttered. Catching a look at Jools' expression, she'd added, "All right, I really will try. But it's unfair the way I know he'll treat me. He's always picked especially badly on Weasleys, Jools, you know that."

"I also know," Jools had said firmly, "that all he ever spouted about your family was a load of tosh. You're still one of the most respected Pureblood families in Britain. And Malfoy knows it. Why did he and his father used to go to so much bother to get you lot in trouble? You're family is heavy competition. You've got two family members in the Ministry, your whole family has more or less adopted the Boy Who Lived, and almost surely going to play a major role in the bashing of You-Know-Who."

Ginny had nodded grudgingly.

"Look, Gin," Jools had finally sighed. "If you take personal offense at something he says or does – really, not just cuz the git annoys you – go to him and let him know exactly what he's done and why you don't appreciate it. In school, he could laugh at you and call you Weaslett, but on the field the dynamic will be different. It has to be, and he knows it."

And so that, Ginny assumed, was why Draco was sulking over his bacon. She caught Pansy's eye across the Great Hall and the seventh year nodded toward Draco with an exaggerated rolling of her large eyes and a shrug. Ginny nodded back, making a face at the blonde before returning to her breakfast.

**)BW(**

As it turned out, Draco was only seething to keep nosy Housemates off his back while he did a bit of planning. Sure, the little Weasley irritated him in irrational ways, but he had more important things to worry about.

Like making them an _actual team._

Draco was quite a thorough boy, so it stood to reason that when he was handed a straggle of girls and told to make them "a real team" (his cousin Ananda's wording), he intended to go all the way. He'd been coaching for a week now, and in spite of himself was quite impressed with their skill. However, it would take more than talent to make the girls "real".

"What're you muttering about, Draco?" Draco looked up in supreme annoyance to see Blaise sliding into a chair beside him.

"Nothing that would interest you, Zabini," he bit out shortly, going back to the long roll of parchment he'd been brainstorming on all morning. Blaise, not heeding the warning tone in his friend's voice, leaned over to look.

"Good lord," he muttered, his dark eyes flickering down the list. "Where the hell are you going to get all this junk?"

"Dumbledore," Draco said shortly.

"Bullocks!" Blaise retorted. "The Headmaster would never help you get all this."

"Wouldn't he?" Draco countered, giving Blaise a hard look. "Now would you mind? I'm trying to work."

"Why would Dumbledore allow you to special order new brooms? Custom order uniforms – _dragonhide _uniforms! Bloody hell, Malfoy, you've gone over the edge."

"Tell me something I don't know," Draco muttered, more to himself than to Blaise. The other chuckled, but left him alone.

Draco did indeed have a lengthy list, but he could rationalize the need for all of it (with the possible exception of the dragonhide). The trick would be convincing Dumbledore; although he had a funny feeling that the old clod would be utterly delighted that Draco was pouring his energy into such a diverse project.

He'd just scrawled a final item on his list when the Hall began to empty. He dusted the long sheaf of parchment and rolled it up, carefully pocketing it. He intended to ditch Potions that afternoon to go to the Headmaster.

He got to his feet in time to see the Weaslett and the Dream Team move to the door. He rolled his eyes. Bloody goody-goods.

Ginny seemed to be walking a little ahead of Potter, Granger, and Weasley and she seemed to be deep in thought. Draco couldn't help watching her, analyzing in his exacting mind her build, her strength –

He tore his eyes away and scowled, determining to himself that he wouldn't think about her again until team practice later that day.

"I was about to tell you to get your eyes back in your head, but your brain beat me to it," came the most unwelcome voice of Blaise Zabini – again.

"Sod off – don't you have some other best friend to annoy?" Draco grouched, giving silent thanks as Potter, Granger, Weasley, and Ginny turned toward the staircases and removed themselves from his line of vision.

"I've got something you might be interested in," Blaise told him, ignoring Draco's grumpiness and handing him an extremely battered book.

"What – you figured my other seven textbooks weren't heavy enough?"

"Look at it, you great prat."

Draco glanced down. It was rather thin, by the Hogwarts Library's usual standards. It was a roughed up green leather book entitled "Quidditch Through the Ages."

"I checked, and your name's not in the register as ever having checked it out," Blaise told him, leading the way down the front steps toward the Herbology sheds. "Unless you read it outside school."

"There's a reason I haven't." Draco flipped open the front cover. A list of names indicated that it was a well-used item (and he wasn't surprised to see Weasley and Potter down as both have checked it out numerous times). Blaise was also down, as well as most of the girls on his new Quidditch team. Huh.

"And what's that?" Blaise asked.

"It's a text book," Draco told him, trying to hand it back. "I skimmed through it once. All it is is team listings and the history of Quidditch."

"It's got strategy, fouls, broom types – "

"And I've got every standard strategic move, every foul, and every type of broomstick name committed to memory," Draco shot back. He glanced down at the inside cover again, and couldn't help smirking at the message neatly printed below the checkout list.

"A warning: If you rip, tear, shred, bend, fold, deface, disfigure, smear, smudge, throw, drop, or in any other manner damage, mistreat, or show lack of respect towards this book, the consequences will be as awful as it is within my power to make them.

Irma Pince, Hogwarts Librarian"

"You'd be surprised what you can learn from history," Blaise countered. "Anyway, I'd say you ought to skim through it anyway. As you can see, most of your girls have read it and you'll look pretty stupid if you don't know it by heart as well."

"Blackmailer," Draco muttered peevishly, but he nevertheless stuffed the volume roughly into his bag.

Although Draco had promised himself he wouldn't think about the Weaslett until Quidditch practice, he couldn't help thinking about the entire team as he went through the rest of his lessons. Even the past week of lessons had exposed minute improvements in almost every team member and Draco's eyes, which wore the glasses of skepticism less and less frequently as the week progressed, were beginning to spark just a bit with the intensely ambitious spirit that had landed him in Slytherin in the first place.

He allowed himself to wander distractedly through the rest of the day, occasionally jotting down more items on his lengthy list of necessary supplies, and before he knew it he was standing in front of the Potions dungeon. The cause of his sudden rude awakening was Weasley – the ugly one.

"Who is he?" the manic redhead was hollering at Granger, who was glowering rather ferociously up at him.

"It's none of your business, Ron," the Prefect was saying tartly. "Anyway, you never cared before that I played Quidditch. Now all of a sudden you give me the third degree. Feel free to sod off, won't you?"

Weasley was turning purple when Snape opened the door and beckoned his class in. Potter was looking back and forth between his best friends with a mixture of amusement and discomfort that Draco found highly entertaining. After a moment, the git took Weasley's arm and pulled him away from Granger toward whatever lesson they had – neither had made it into Snape's N.E.W.T. Potions class. _Big_ surprise.

The blonde waited until the class had filed into the dungeon, taken their seats, and set up their Potions stations before putting up his hand.

"Sir," he drawled lazily. "Sir – I need to take this period off to go up and have a word with the Headmaster."

"That's fine, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said, not even turning to look at him. Draco threw a malevolent glance across the dungeon at the few Gryffindors who'd made it this far in Potions. Dean Thomas and Lavender Brown glowered disgustedly at him, but Granger was staring curiously at him. A wicked thought struck Draco.

"Sir – I need Granger to come with me." The girl's eyes widened in surprise and Snape whipped around to stare at him.

"I beg your pardon?" the Potions Master breathed, staring at his star pupil in utter disbelief.

"Granger's got to come along as well," Draco repeated simply.

"Five points from Gryffindor if you don't close your mouth this instant, Miss Brown!" Snape barked suddenly, clearly torn between his favorite student and his favorite past time of Gryff torture. Lavender, meanwhile, was gaping at Draco like a fish out of water. Draco smirked at her. She flushed, but hefted her chin defiantly.

"Fine!" Snape muttered, turning back to Draco. "Get out of my sight, Miss Granger."

Granger, clearly reluctant to leave any lesson without a good reason, nevertheless quickly packed up her bag, threw her extra ingredients into her cauldron, and hurried from the room after Draco.

"Well?" she asked when they were a safe distance from the Potions dungeon. "What was that about?"

"I needed a second opinion, and I needed to hack off your little friends," Draco said, sneering at her as he fished his list of necessities from his robe pocket and handed them to her.

Granger gave him a thoroughly unimpressed look; one that she'd perfected after years of practice, but her eyes grew rounder as she slowly scanned the many items on the parchment Draco had given her. Then, to Draco's amazement, a slow grin spread across her face.

"Malfoy – you've outdone yourself," she murmured, glancing up at him in what Draco could only interpret to be grudging respect. "But Dumbledore – he'll never get all this stuff."

"Won't he?" Draco countered smugly.

Granger eyed him shrewdly.

"All right – what gives?" she asked.

"I figure I have several things going for me," Draco said. "First of all, I'm coaching a team entirely made up of girls. Someone like Dumbledore would see the irony. Next, this team is _really_ good. Once he sees a practice, I think he'll realize that we're no joke. There's also the small matter of a serious breakthrough in Interhouse relations – " he broke off when he noticed Granger's jaw flopping uselessly about.

"What?" he snapped, rather irritated that she didn't seem to be taking him seriously. She seemed to read his thoughts, because her face broke into a small smile.

"Overlooking the fact that you're taking credit for a team that's more certainly not of _your_ invention," she said, "I couldn't help noticing that you used the word 'we.'"

"And?"

"And for someone like you, Malfoy, that's pretty impressive," she retorted. She turned her attention back to the extensive list. "Why do you need me with you, Malfoy?"

"Backup," Draco told her, taking the list back and rolling it up. "It's all well and good that I've got my shit together, but Dumbledore might not believe that I don't have another agenda unless I have someone backing me up."

"And that someone had to be from another House so you could prove you weren't just in it for Slytherin's gain," Granger finished. Draco paused. He hadn't really had a specific reason for choosing Granger over Pansy or Millicent, but Granger's worked for him.

"Sure," he said. They walked in silence the rest of the way to the gargoyle statue.

"Don't suppose you have the password, do you?" Granger asked.

"Bugger," Draco muttered. He hadn't thought of that.

"Er – I suppose we'll have to guess," Granger said. "Cockroach cluster." Nothing happened. "Blood flavored lollypop." Still nothing.

"Fizzing Whizby," Draco offered. "Bertie Botts Every Flavor Bean. Banana Sluggers."

"Tooth flossing mint," Granger tried. "Um – Canary Creams. Skiving Snack Boxes."

"Oh, come _on_!" Draco growled, starting to get thoroughly irritated. "Jasper's Jumping Beans. Sugar Quills."

"Try 'Irving's Irresistible Ice Pops,'" came an amused voice from behind the frustrated teens. Draco and Hermoine turned. Albus Dumbledore – the great nutcase – stood behind them, smiling benignly.

"Irving's Irresistible Ice Pops," Granger said to the gargoyle. To Draco's supreme annoyance, she was grinning.

"I'm surprised you didn't think to guess Lemon Drops, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said.

"That seemed too obvious, sir," Granger said, following the ancient man up to spiral staircase that had appeared behind the gargoyle.

"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps that is why it makes for such a good password."

Draco kept quiet as the three stepped off the stairs and into Dumbledore's bizarre and fascinating office.

"Now then," the old man said, taking a seat behind his desk and folding his hands on his desk. "What can I do for you two?"

"I needed to run something by you, sir," Draco said. "Granger's here to back me up."

"I'm all eyes, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said, nudging his glasses up his nose with emphasis.

Draco took a deep breath, realizing that in all his smug bravado he hadn't really though about how to present the team to the Headmaster.

"It's like this, sir," he said. "I've got these girls. I mean, I have a Quidditch team that these girls are on."

"I see," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "Do go on."

"Um – they're good," Draco offered lamely, feeling more and more like an idiot. He had a nasty feeling that Granger was greatly enjoying his discomfiture.

"And you, Hermione, are on this team?" Dumbledore prompted.

"Yes, sir," Granger said, throwing Draco an amused look. "And he's right. We're quite good. We've been practicing every day, as I believe you know since you authorized one of our after curfew practices." Draco bit back a scowl. Blast the know-it-all! She went on placidly. "As you probably also know, Draco quit playing last year for personal reasons. We needed a coach experienced in competition and strategy. Draco happened to be quite good at both and we asked him to step in as head coach."

"Right," Draco cut in, determined to take control of the conversation once again. "And I think my girls have potential. But because they're from all four houses and all girls, they don't have anyone to compete with or any equipment to speak of."

"And what exactly is it that you need from me, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore asked, the corners of this mouth twitching. Draco bit back another glower. Damn the old clod, he was being difficult!

"First of all, I needed your authorization for the girls to compete in the Interhouse championship," Draco said, taking a deep breath. "Then I needed your – er, help getting ahold of the items on this list." He offered the neat roll of parchment across the desk to the Headmaster, crossing his fingers under the edge of the desk.

Dumbledore's sharp eyes traveled over the parchment, but Draco couldn't gauge his reaction. After a few moments deliberation, the Headmaster looked up.

"You do understand what you're asking me to do, Mr. Malfoy?" he said at last.

Draco didn't, but Granger jumped in.

"We understand that we're technically asking for special favors, sir," she said quietly. "But we think it's justifiable for several reasons. We're looking at it as a serious project. Draco's going to be managing a team. We're seriously looking at trying to become a pro team. If we succeeded we'd become the second all witch team in Quidditch history – after the Holyhead Harpies. This is really a learning experience. Our team – " Draco scowled. _His_ team, _his_ team! – "is a diverse group. It's an example of a group of people who are willing to set aside their not inconsiderable differences to do what they love. Think of it as a noble cause. After all, I think we all know how important unity is right now."

Granger was flushed with earnestness, and Draco nearly gagged. On the other hand, the Headmaster was now looking quite interested.

"Those are interesting points, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, regarding her thoughtfully. He looked back at the list. "I won't lie to you, this will all cost a good deal of money. However," here he grinned in an tremendously mischievous way at them, "I will tell you that Hogwarts isn't exactly in the grip of financial despair." He paused again, leaning back and gazing passed them out the window. Finally, he looked back at them.

"I'll make you a deal," he said at length. "I will observe your next Quidditch practice. If I feel that this is a worthwhile investment for the school's money and resources, I will back your whole project. Materials, time, matches – everything."

"Wow!" Granger was looking as excited and overwhelmed as Draco felt. "Thanks – thanks so much, sir."

"Not at all, Miss Granger," Dumbledore chuckled. "Between you and I, I haven't heard of this noble a project since well before your time here. I do believe you will go far. And when is your next practice, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Um – today, sir," Draco said, still too amazed at their good luck. "This evening, actually. After the Hufflepuffs."

"I look forward to it," Dumbledore nodded. "Oh, and have you a name for your team? A mascot?"

"Uh, no," Draco was taken aback. "Haven't gotten that far yet."

"I expect to be the first one who knows when a decision is reached." The Headmaster got to his feet.

"Well, then," Dumbledore scratched his bestubbled face. "If that's all, I'll hold onto your list. You two had best return to classes. I expect Professor Snape was none too pleased to set you loose."

"Thanks, sir," Granger said again.

Draco followed her out of the office and down the stairs in silence. They were both too stunned to speak. It appeared that they had all they needed to create a "real" team.

Outside the Potions classroom, they paused.

"Weasley told me that no other team in history had been made up of witches," Draco said at length. "She never told me about the Holyhead Harpies."

"Don't sweat it," Granger advised. "They're old news, aren't they? We'll be a new, sassier form of girls only, won't we?"

After a moment, they high-fived, traded traditional glares for good measure, and reentered the dungeon, both feeling supremely smug.

**)BW(**

TBC


	4. The Interhouse Unity

Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.'s. Sincerest thanks to the Goddess of pro-fic..

A/N: SO SORRY this took so sodding long! Usual excuses apply. Hope you enjoy this. The quotes and, in fact, most of the Quidditch technical mumbo-jumbo can be found in "Quidditch Through the Ages," a timeless companion for every Quidditch buff.

**)BW(**

Chapter 4

**)BW(**

" _-from Cork flew over for a game in Lancashire and did offend the locals by beating their heroes soundly. The Irishmen knew tricks with the Quaffle that had not been seen in Lancashire before and had to flee the village for fear of their lives when the crowd drew their wands and –_ "

"I didn't know you could read."

"Twenty laps before and after practice, Weasel." Draco didn't bother to look up but could sense her seething.

"Well, that's good. Even if I can't catch the Quaffle to save my life, I'll be the world's best lap-runner."

He bit back a grin in spite of himself.

"You can't _run_ on a broom, Weasel. Get out to the pitch and stop bothering me."

"Aren't you supposed to be _coaching_, Malfoy?"

"At the moment, no."

"Praise Merlin, have you resigned?"

"That'll be thirty laps now, Weasel. Best get started so you can actually get some practice in as well."

"Gin!" The girl turned and to face Boot and Bones, both of whom were stalking toward her and looking furious.

"What're you _doing_?" Boot demanded, glaring at Ginny.

"Wasting everyone's time arguing with the coach," Draco put in lazily, his eyes still trained on his book. "She owes sixty laps, Boot."

"Fine – in the air, Gin," the seventh year ordered.

"But – " Ginny's face was turning a nice shade of radish.

"Come on, Gin, we've got to get practicing," Bones put in gently. Draco bit back a snort. The Weaslett didn't need sympathy, she needed a good kick in the –

With a smirk, Draco returned his attention to his book.

"_Diverse sources show that the game had spread into other parts of Europe by the early fifteenth century. We know that Norway was an early convert to the game because of the verses written by the early poet Ingolfr the Iambic –_ "

"It'd help if you'd stop antagonizing her, _coach_." Now exceptionally irritated, Draco dog-eared _Quidditch Through the Ages _and looked up at Boot, who had taken a seat in the stands beside Draco and was watching Ginny tear around the pitch in high dudgeon.

"She's got to learn her place." Draco shrugged. "Anyway, she started it."

"Oh, that's a mature attitude," Boot snorted. "I agree that she's got to chill a bit – "

Draco stared at her in surprise. Boot shrugged.

"What? I know what it takes to make a team. I helped form this one, and I can tell you that smoothing out the disputes between members from different Houses was hell."

"But you did it," Draco muttered grudgingly.

"That's right," she nodded. "We did. And although I think Ginny's got more than enough reason to hate you, I also know that she's got to take it easy – for everyone's sake, not just yours."

Boot got up and left the stands to rejoin the rest of the team in the air, leaving Draco feeling faintly annoyed. He wasn't entirely sure, but he had a feeling he was supposed to feel partially responsible for the Weasel's inability to bite her tongue.

With a shrug of indifference he went back to his book.

"_The year 1473 saw the first ever Quidditch World Cup, though the nations represented were all European. The nonappearance of teams from more distant nations may be put down to the collapse of the owls bearing letters of invitation, the reluctance of those invited to make such a long and perilous journey, or perhaps a simply preference to stay –_ "

"Good evening, Mr. Malfoy." Draco nearly jumped out of his skin. Twisting awkwardly in his seat, he found himself looking into the twinkling blue eyes of Dumbledore – the great loon!

"I'm sorry if I gave you a fright," the Headmaster went on, moving to take a seat beside Draco on the bench, folding his hands serenely in his lap. He threw a mildly interested look at the book Draco was still clutching with white-knuckled hands. "Ah, yes. I'm glad to see that you've taken Mr. Zabini's advice."

Draco bit back his exasperation with difficulty. How did Dumbledore _always _seem to know what was going on? Aside from being unnerving, it was also dead annoying.

"So," the old maniac went on, "I apologize for my lateness. I'm afraid I got caught up in a rather delectable box of sweets a friend of mine sent me this morning. Four hundred flavors! Goodness, I've been at them since you and Miss Granger left my office earlier today."

Draco stared at him, feeling an unwilling laugh rise in his throat. He choked it down with an effort.

"Er – it's all right, sir," he said. "Practice is just starting."

Or might have been if the Weaslett, Natalie McDonald, and Adrienne Abbot hadn't stopped to gape openly at Dumbledore. To Draco's relief the Headmaster merely smiled and waved, and a moment later, Bones came zooming around to get the others back into practice.

"I see you've kept my imminent arrival quiet," Dumbledore said, his eyes trained on Boot, who was waving everyone down onto the field for a pre-practice pep talk.

"Er – right," Draco said awkwardly. "I just didn't want them to get nervous, is all."

"I see." The Headmaster nodded. However, Draco had a feeling he'd made a mistake. In not informing his team of the Headmaster's intention to observe today's practice, Draco had hoped to subject Dumbledore to the normal routine. He didn't want the girls showing off, or getting upset, or nervous, or suspicious.

To their credit, most of them managed to pull of a relatively normal practice. Warm-ups went off nicely, with Boot putting the girls through the more advanced drills Draco had devised during Charms earlier that day. The only comment Dumbledore made was,

"My, my. Miss Weasley seems to be trying to set some sort of record. How many laps has she done?"

Draco tried not to wince as he suddenly realized what an awkward position he'd placed himself in. If it had been anyone else doing laps, it might have been okay, but Dumbledore knew about the animosity between the Malfoys and Weasleys. Draco could only hope the old clod didn't think he was unfairly discriminating. That could definitely count against the team's chances of sponsorship.

Draco opened his mouth to say something in his own defense, but realized that no matter what he said, it could be misconstrued malicious or immature. For example, "Weasley called me stupid and I thought I'd teach her some respect," didn't sound very impressive and would probably give Dumbledore the impression that Draco was misusing his power.

Which he _wasn't_! No. He was merely trying to get Ginny off her high hippogriff in order to avoid enmity between the coach and team. That was all.

Focusing a bit harder, Draco saw that Bones was calling everyone over from various warm ups and ordering them to circle up. Ginny had just finished, evidently, because she was spiraling down to join her teammates. She still looked sour.

"Well, Mr. Malfoy?" Draco started and bit back an irritated curse.

"Pardon, sir?"

"Oh, I just thought you'd be joining the team now." Dumbledore was watching him calmly. It took Draco a minute, but then he realized he'd just made another mistake. Sitting up in the stands this way gave the impression that he felt he was a separate entity from his team.

"I'm usually down on the field with the girls, but I told Boots and Bones to take this practice so I could stay up here - in case you had any questions, sir." He mentally kicked himself for overcompensating.

"Oh, think nothing of me," Dumbledore chuckled good-naturedly. "You've got a team to see to. I'll keep until after practice."

"Right - thanks, sir." Gritting his teeth, Draco got up and began the climb down the bleachers to the field where the team was circling up. He knew what the loon was doing. He wanted to see how Draco interacted with the girls. The Slytherin sent a silent prayer to Salazar Slytherin that Ginny would keep her sass to herself this practice.

" - don't worry about it," Bones was intoning as Draco approached. It was clear what she was referring to. Many of the girls were throwing incredulous looks in Dumbledore's directions. It was Adrienne Abbot who noticed Draco first.

"Coach! You didn't tell us Dumbledore was gonna be sitting this practice! What gives?"

Abbot's noise making drew the attention of the others, who apparently hadn't noticed Draco leave the stands. Draco was almost deafened by the noise of protests, demands, and accusations.

"Shut it, won't you?" he finally barked over the loud exclamations of his cousin Ananda and Pansy. The babble dribbled off into a rather sulky, if expectant, silence.

"Look," he went on. "I don't want you lot to worry about Dumbledore, right? The important thing is that he's here to observe and it'd be to our benefit to have a smashing training today."

"But _why _is he here, Malfoy?" Ginny demanded, her hands on her hips. Draco could see Boot rolling her eyes in the background.

"That's my business for the moment, Weaslett," he returned coolly. "But I promise you it will become your concern if you manage to catch a few reverse passes today."

To their credit, Ginny's teammates hid their smiles and giggling well. Ginny's expression darkened noticeably, but Granger chose that moment to whisper something in Ginny's ear. Whatever it was, Ginny's expression drooped a bit and she shrugged resignedly.

"Now, if you're all quite through with your interrogation, kindly seat your bums on your brooms and give me the best ruddy game I've ever seen!" he snapped. Everyone but Granger jumped, but looked a bit less mutinous after that. Some even looked excited to be flying under the eye of the Headmaster.

"We need teams, Malfoy," Boot said. "Care to do the honors?"

"Right." Draco thought for a moment. "Just this once, the Weaslett, Pans, and Granger will be flying together. Abbot, Patil, Ananda - I want you paying special attention to their weaknesses. We know Weasley can't catch. What else do you lot notice about Pansy and Granger's technique?"

"Pansy can't score very well," Ananda said, managing to keep any malice out of her voice. "And Granger's no good at reverse passes. Apart from that, they're pretty solid." She smirked. "Anyway, we know that no Keeper can stop Weasley." Several girls voiced their agreement enthusiastically and Ginny blushed.

"I'll be the judge of that, thanks," Draco snapped, glaring at his cousin. "Okay, Beaters. McDonald, Millicent, I want you two together, focusing on Bludger Backups. I want those Bludgers going toward the _opposing team only_, got it? Same for you two," he added, nodding to Boot and Pavarti Patil. "I also want to see some coordinated Dopplebeater Defenses - aiming for the Keepers today. And Abbot, I want you against them - you're too good. Bones, I want you running Double Eight Loops against Weasley. It's the only tactic that could possibly stop her aerials. And Johnson, Bentley - I don't give a damn which one of you gets the bloody Snitch, as long as it doesn't take more than an hour. Now go on, get up there!"

His team stood stalk still for a moment, gaping at him like beached fish. Then Granger suddenly threw her leg over her broom and took off. Ginny, Patrice Patil, and Jessica Bentley were right behind her and soon the whole team was in the air.

"Balls out!" Draco called, kicking the wooden chest open and jumping back to avoid the Bludgers. He stepped forward once they had cleared the box and tossed the Quaffle up as well.

Throwing a glance toward the stands, Draco noticed Dumbledore leaning forward to watch.

And the Slytherin swore there was a grin on the old maniac's lips.

**)BW(**

Ginny couldn't believe it! Not an hour into the game, Jessica Bentley pulled out of a rather spectacular Plumpton Pass and shook the Snitch out of her sleeve. Although Ginny knew that the man for whom the move had been named had supposedly caught the Snitch by accident, she could tell by the look of suppressed triumph on the second-year Seeker's face that she had fully intended that move.

Cheering along with the rest of her temporary team, she sank back to the field, where Draco was waiting with an unmistakably smug expression. And standing beside him -

"What's Dumbledore doing down here?" Hannah Abbot mumbled to Ginny as she pulled up alongside Ginny's Nimbus.

"No idea," Ginny told her friend, taking her hands off her broom to fix her ponytail. "But it's Malfoy's doing. I can tell by his infuriating smirk."

"What do you suppose it is?" Hannah asked, eyeing the Headmaster nervously.

"Dunno," Ginny shrugged, twisting the band around her hair. "But Mione does. I can tell."

They touched down simultaneously and joined the other girls around Draco and Dumbledore.

"Nice one, Jess," Draco began without preamble. "Most Seekers don't use Plumptons nowadays. Johnson, next time she feints like that, follow her."

"Okay, coach." Betina looked disappointed. Ginny, who was beside her, put an arm around her friend. She saw Dumbledore's eyes twinkle at her and bit back a smile.

"Granger, Pans, good show," Draco went on, his eyes raking over the Chasers. "The Hawkshead Attack was good. Just don't forget that the second you pull out, you're open to attack. That's how Patil and Nanda got you with that Parkin's Pincer, Granger." His eyes turned to Ginny and for a moment he stayed silent. Ginny could sense his internal struggle. He loathed the idea of telling her she'd done something right, but at the same time couldn't pass over her with Dumbledore at his back.

"Weasley," he said at length. "Your reverse to Pansy at the beginning of the game was good, and I saw several decent aerials. Just be careful of that Pincer. And for Merlin's sake, work with Granger or Abbot or someone on catching!" He didn't say it maliciously, but Ginny had to exercise a lot of control not to retort that if he'd let her warm up with the rest of the team instead of making her fly in circles indefinitely, she might have more to show for herself.

"I've got notes for the rest of you as well, but they can wait until stretching," Draco went on. "Professor Dumbledore's got a few things to say, so listen up."

The Headmaster cleared his throat quietly, looking around at the sweaty, bedraggled team with an expression that surprised Ginny. He looked impressed.

"Perhaps it would first be prudent to explain to your team why I am here, Mr. Malfoy?" he suggested, and Ginny saw his lip twitch.

"Oh, right." Ginny couldn't help grinning now. This was the first time she had ever seen Draco and Dumbledore interact and it was clear that the older man made the Slytherin nervous. It was rather pleasing to see that someone took Draco off his high horse occasionally. "Um, I went to the Headmaster this morning and - er - asked him to back our team."

There was a moment of stunned silence.

"By 'backed,'" Ginny said carefully, hardly daring to believe what she'd just heard. "You mean put money into sponsoring certain - certain areas of our team?"

"Yeah, Weasley," Draco said, clearly trying not to give her an annoyed look.

"And what part of this will he be backing?" Pavarti asked slowly.

"As of this practice, everything from new uniforms to pitch time," Draco said. Another moment of stunned silence, and then it was as though the pitch had exploded with babble.

"Oh my god!" Ananda shrieked, and she and Ginny jumped up and down squealing and hugging. Ginny felt sort of numb. A sponsor - they had a sponsor! They were going to be real! A team mascot, team colors, _new uniforms_! Not that they'd had _old _ones, really . . .

"Oy! Girls!" Ginny and Ananda joined the rest in trying to calm down. Draco rolled his eyes. "I reckon headless chickens should be our team mascot," he said pointedly. Ginny was so thrilled she managed to laugh along with the rest. "Anyway, Professor Dumbledore's got some stuff to go over with you guys, so try not to wet yourselves until he's through."

"Smarmy git!" Ginny hissed under her breath, but she was still grinning wide enough for her face to split.

"Ahem," Dumbledore began again. "Mr. Malfoy is quite right. It is my honor and privilege to announce that I will be backing your team." He had to stop because the girls had started cheering again. The Headmaster waited with an amused look for them to settle down again. "Mr. Malfoy came to me this morning with a proposal I could not refuse. He informed me that fourteen talented young women from a variety of Houses had been practicing night and day and wished to become a certified team. With Miss Granger's help - "

"I knew she was in on this!" Ginny whispered to Hannah, and they grinned at the Gryffindor Prefect. Hermione winked mischievously back.

" - Mr. Malfoy relayed a proposal to the effect that, should I be properly impressed by your team's effort and ability, I would provide financial support for you."

"What does 'financial support' entail, exactly, sir?" Millicent asked eagerly.

"I was just coming to that," Dumbledore told her, smiling cheerfully. "Financial support means that I secure for you all uniforms in your team's choice of colors and mascot, pitch time and locker rooms of your own, proper matches against the four Houses - " the excited babble began again, rising with each new pronouncement - "and, of course, broomsticks - " his voice was drowned in the shrieks and shouts of joy and delight. Ginny could barely contain herself.

Brooms! They were going to get team brooms! No more Cleansweeps or even outdated Nimbuses! She knew that if Draco had convinced Dumbledore that they were worth it that they would be getting the finest money could buy.

"Thanks so much, sir!" Hermione called over the din. She didn't look surprised, but she looked as ecstatic as the rest. The others offered their thanks as well, but Dumbledore held up his hands for quiet. The din died away.

"You are all most welcome," he said with a smile. "As I told Draco and Miss Granger, I haven't heard of this worthy a cause in quite some time. And having seen you fly together, I am quite sure you will be an example to many. However, there are certain conditions that go along with Hogwarts' sponsorship."

Ginny felt her happy bubble deflate a bit. It _had _seemed a bit on the too-good-to-be-true side . . .

"First of all, I want to see you continuing to put in the sort of effort you demonstrated tonight," Dumbledore began. "I'm sure I do not have to tell you that a fancy uniform and nice broomsticks do not make up for slacking. Also, I must impress upon all of you the necessity of keeping up with your studies. Some of you have N.E.W.T.s. this year; some have O.W.L.s. Regardless, your education takes precedence over Quidditch. If you fall significantly behind in any class, I'm afraid the penalty will be same for you as it would be for a House team member. You will have to take a leave from your team until your study habits improve." He looked quite seriously around at all of them and for a moment. There was complete silence. Then his expression lightened and he went on.

"I must also tell you that because this is not a regular school activity you will all have to owl home permission slips to your guardians, getting express permission to participate on this team." There was a collective groan. Dumbledore smiled. "Not to worry. I will be sending the slips myself and have no doubt that your respective guardians will be as thrilled by this project as I am."

"I wouldn't bet on it," Ginny heard Ananda mumble to Pansy. The other nodded grimly.

"For the moment, I believe that's all," Dumbledore said. "And as I believe dinner is near at hand, I suggest that you head for the lockers. Good evening and thank you for a good show."

And with that, he turned and strolled away across the pitch, humming.

"We'll skip stretching for today!" Draco called. "I'm dead hungry!"

The excited chatter that had greeted Dumbledore's pronouncement continued into the lockers.

"How'd you talk him into it, Hermione?" Natalie was asking the Prefect as they entered to lockers. Ginny hurried forward to listen.

"It really was Malfoy's idea," Hermione murmured to them, heading for her locker. "He and I left Potions to see the Headmaster this morning. Malfoy had a list of stuff we'd need and all. And Dumbledore seemed really impressed by how much thought Malfoy'd put into this. It didn't hurt that he'd brought a Gryffindor to back him up. That's it, honestly."

Ginny was still smiling, but she felt a bit of a wrench in her gut. Despite how deeply she despised Draco, his act of devotion to the team was sort of touching. Until that point, Ginny hadn't really thought he was taking them seriously. The fact that he'd gone to Dumbledore, pocketed his pride and dragged Hermione, _and_ worked so hard to plan his spiel suggested to Ginny that he really wanted to make this work.

"I - Mione, do you think I owe him an apology?" she asked her friend haltingly. Hermione pulled her tee-shirt over her head and turned to regard her friend thoughtfully.

"Maybe just a thank you for putting an effort into us," the Prefect said slowly. "I don't think you've done anything wrong. He's been rotten to you. Your attitude's been understandable."

"I guess." Ginny threw a glance across the lockers. Draco was leaning against Susie's locker, talking quietly to her and Jools. Ginny sighed loudly. Then sucking up her pride, she made her way across the lockers.

"Malfoy - coach?" she forced out as she approached. He looked up in surprise at being addressed this way by her of all people.

"What is it, Weasley?" At least his tone was curious, rather than condescending or impatient, which steeled Ginny's resolve to do what she'd come to do.

"Can I - can I have a word?" she asked quietly. He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment.

"All right," he said at length, pushing off the locker. "We'll take a walk round the pitch. You've not done your other thirty laps, have you?"

Ginny bit down on her tongue to keep from retorting. She should have known . . .

"No," she gritted.

"Good," he nodded briskly. "You can get those done when you're through. Come on."

He led her out onto the pitch and started a slow stroll around the edge.

"What is it?" he asked. Once again, his tone was curious.

"I - I just want - " she faltered. It was costing her a great effort not to gag on the words.

"Well?" he said, sounding faintly annoyed. "Spit it out."

"Thanks, okay?" she snapped loudly.

He stopped dead.

"What?" He sounded frankly amazed.

"I said thank you!" Ginny said loudly, not looking at him. "Thanks for going to Dumbledore for us."

"Oh." He looked rather speechless. "Er - no problem."

Ginny was so startled that he hadn't retorted or been smarmy in any way that she couldn't really think of anything else to say.

"Er - that was all," she said intelligently.

Draco continued to stare at her for another few moments.

"Right, then," he said, suddenly businesslike. "You've still got thirty laps to do. Get 'em done and meet me back here in ten."

Ginny felt anger boil in her gut. He could at least have said 'You're Welcome.' Then his words caught with a grinding halt in her brain.

"_Why_ am I meeting you back here in ten?" she asked. He was actually going to wait for her to finish thirty laps? He was going to be here a while.

"Because I want to talk to you about your aerials - I think that one where you jump through the hoop is considered a foul," Draco told her tartly. "Meet me outside the lockers once you've showered and we'll go up to dinner."

'_We'll go up to dinner,'_ he'd said.

Ginny couldn't help gaping and he strolled away across the pitch.

**)BW(**

I hate leaving you all here when you've had to wait so bloody long for a new chappy. This one was transitional as well, which means it's not very interesting. SORRY! It was hard to write for some reason. That, and I only just finished math finals two days ago, so my free time this summer's been next to non-existent. Hope this tides you over for a bit!

Loves,

J.T.


	5. The First Setback

Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.'s. Sincerest thanks to the Goddess of pro-fic..

A/N: Two apologies. Apology #1: This has been way too bloody long in coming. Apology #2: It's the shortest chapter I think I've ever written because I literally stopped mid-chapter. Where it ends was originally intended to be the middle. SORRY! Read the author's note following this chappy for a full explanation and a plea for help.

**)BW(**

Chapter 5

**)BW(**

Ginny was rather a long time in finishing her laps, but Draco proved to be an obstinately patient person. While Ginny was busy making herself thoroughly dizzy, the blonde Slytherin could be seen perched atop the Slytherin stands, working on homework. It was getting dark, but there he stayed, intent upon whatever he was doing.

Ginny had to admire his persistence to an end, anyway.

When she had finally finished her laps, she didn't fly up into the stands, but landed on the grassy pitch and crossed to the lockers. She had already entered one of the shower stalls when she heard Draco come in.

"I hope you've learnt a thing or two about antagonizing the coach, Weasley," were his first words. Ginny poked her head out to glare at him and found, to her surprise, that his smirk lacked its usual malice. He merely looked amused. She gave him a crooked smile and returned to her shower.

"I've learnt that you enjoy your position way too much for your own good – _coach_," she added as a rather sardonic afterthought.

"Most fellows would envy me my position, though, wouldn't they?" he asked. Ginny heard his books hit the bench outside her shower with a slap and assumed he'd seated himself there as well. She shrugged and went back to soaping her hair. Little she cared. She was used to a house full of men, and had had many misadventures of the washroom variety, what with Charlie and Bill's friends coming to stay for holidays, as well as Harry. As long as Draco didn't have x-ray vision, she was safe.

"I suppose," she finally answered the question. "But then," she ventured daringly a moment later, "I've never met a boy who had less respect for people – women especially – than you do."

To her surprise and mild relief, he snorted with laughter.

"Show me some women and I'll show you some respect," he quipped.

"Shut up!" Ginny said, trying to sound offended and not really succeeding. "We've got boobs, yeah?"

_Had she just said that?_

"Some of you," he said casually, as though thinking seriously. "Patil Sr. got off well."

"Ew!" Ginny made a face as she shampooed her hair. "You're not supposed to be talking about that stuff, Malfoy."

"_Coach_. Anyway, you started it."

Ginny opened her mouth to retaliate, realized he was right, and called him something rude, which it was just as well he didn't catch.

"That's mature," was the best she could do. Sticking her head under the jet of water, she rinsed it clean and turned off the tap. "You going to let me have my towel this time?"

"Yes, but only because I'm hungry."

"_What_?"

"Mind out of the gutter, Weasel, I meant because I haven't eaten since breakfast and I want to get to dinner."

"_Oh_." Ginny couldn't help giggling as she stepped out of the shower stall and met his unimpressed gaze with a sheepish one. "Comes from living with boys, you know."

"Right . . . " He stood back to let her by, but followed her across the locker room. "You know, Weasley, you blame your brothers for a lot of your – uh, oddities, but I think you need to take more credit. Granger's boyfriend doesn't have half the balls on that pitch that you do. Do you play at home?"

"Oh, I've been playing most of my life," Ginny said, pulling a spare towel from her locker and rubbing her short hair dry. "Thing is, I got coddled at home a lot because I was the baby. Bill and Charlie used to go out of their way to keep me 'safe' from the twins antics." She smiled at the thought of her rambunctious siblings. "Half the reason Ron had such a hard time playing Keeper last year – apart from nerves – was because he spent so much of the time watching me; making sure I was all right."

To her mild surprise, Draco kept any further derogatory retorts about his nemesis to himself. Instead, he stayed quiet while Ginny got dressed. It was a bit awkward, for although she was used to having lads about, as she'd said, she still had a natural sense of modesty. It was rather difficult to dress with Draco not more than two or three feet away, leaning casually against Adrienne Abbot's locker and staring off into space.

Still, Ginny had too much pride to ask him to turn away or leave, so she caught her towel up in her teeth so that it wrapped around her back and turned to face the locker. She knew she must look ridiculous, especially when she had to untangle her bra when the straps got twisted in her towel. However, she managed at last and Draco's continued silence was most welcome.

Once clad in her modest undergarments, she allowed her towel to fall. She wore less than this during most Quidditch practices after all.

"So," she said as the stretch of silence became rather uncomfortable. "Where exactly do you see our team going, _coach_?"

"Well, Ginevra," he answered, in a falsely bright and cheery way, as though he were giving an interview, "I think we've got an excellent lineup this season. Parkinson and Granger are a shoo-in and if Weasley can survive her first match – "

"Oh, shut it, won't you?" Ginny snapped, trying to look angry. "I meant – oh, you know what I meant!"

Draco grinned in cocky sort of way, but there was an odd sparkle in his eye that Ginny had never seen before.

"I'm gonna make this team great, Weasley," he said at length, the glazed, distant look returning to his eye.

Ginny snorted.

Draco's eyes snapped back to hers in annoyance.

"It's true!" he said sharply. "You may all look like a bunch of hotshot twats, but you've got it where it counts. Anyway," he added, the mad glint back, "have you any idea how many people I'll be upsetting if I see this through?"

Ginny gave a genuine smile at that. Same old Draco. She found the thought comforting somehow. She supposed that she felt safer knowing what she could count on. If the game had suddenly turned him all thoughtful and self-sacrificing she'd have been nervous.

"But how?" she asked, pulling her tee shirt over her head. "Oh, anyone can _say_ they're going to start up a pro team. But look at all the groups that tried and missed. The Liverpool Livestock, the West End Wombats, the Bathe Bunnies – they lasted a few years and then fell off. And they were full grown witches and wizards with other pro team experiences behind them."

"Well, you can be pessimistic or you can plan on everything going the way you want it," Draco said with a shrug, watching as she pulled on her jeans. "I figure the latter is easier, makes everyone feel safer, and means that no matter what you're always looking for an alternative if you screw up. And anyway, everything's gone my way so far. What can possibly stop me now?"

Ginny could think of several things, but kept them to herself.

"The real question, Weasley, is how far _you all_ are willing to take our game."

Ginny looked at him sharply.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded suspiciously. She felt her nerves – and temper – jump as images of signing contracts in blood swam inexplicably to mind.

"It means," Draco said carefully, as though searching for the rights words, "that your commitment is going to mean everything. I can ponce around calling myself a dynamite coach, but only if you lot are willing to do what I tell you." He began ticking things off on his fingers. "First of all, are you willing to commit to _my _training schedule, which at some points may be back up to seven four-hour trainings a week? Second, are you willing to sit out a match because I decide someone more qualified to fly a position should be in the air? Third – "

"All right, all right, I get it!" Ginny snapped. As much as she hated to admit it, he had some very valid points. They were all committed _now_, but when the running of the team fell more securely under Draco's control, which it undoubtedly would if and when he began managing as well as coaching, would they be willing to devote their entire lives to the sport?

"Some of the girls are a bit young to be committing like that," she conceded after a moment. She hesitated, then added, "But I really believe some of the older girls are up for it. Turning pro doesn't mean giving up school, or family, or fun stuff. We could all still go off to university – heck, maybe even get some scholarship money out of it. It just means rationing what you do have. I think we're up for it."

When Draco didn't respond, Ginny glanced up expectantly and saw with some surprise that he was gazing down at her with an intense, unfamiliar expression. It was a look Ginny had never seen – or indeed, expected to see – on his face and it puzzled her. She couldn't put a name to it, really, but it held several things – anxiety, suspicion, and discovery.

But all he said was, "I'm counting on it."

**)BW(**

The next week of practice had assumed a kind of comfortable routine before the first major roadblock appeared for the team – the first test not only of Draco's devotion, but of the entire team's.

Ginny and Pavarti, who'd come from lunch and were arguing about whether Ginny's aerial constituted a foul ("it's Haversacking, Gin, I swear!"), were making their way briskly toward the Quidditch pitch for practice. They'd left Natalie having what Ginny liked to think of as a "lover's quarrel" with Dennis Creevey (although it was more of a Ron-and-Hermione style shouting match than anything else). Hermione had been in the library looking up something in the Restricted Section and had said vaguely that she'd meet them in the lockers.

"What's that?" Pavarti said suddenly, cutting off Ginny's explanation of a legal invasion of the scoring area. Ginny broke off, listening too. A moment later, the sound of shouting reached her ears.

"It's coming from the lockers," she said. Sharing anxious looks the two Gryffindors set off at a run for the pitch.

As they drew up to the locker room doors, Ginny was able to pick out a few of the voices. She could hear Millicent Bulstrode bellowing and by the sound of it pacing up and down. A moment later the sound of someone sobbing met her ears, accompanied by Pansy Parkinson's less-than-dulcet tones.

"Sounds like a Slytherin bitch fest," Pavarti whispered as they came to halt before the doors. "Do we dare?"

"Someone's gotta go in there," Ginny pointed out, though not without some trepidation. "If they keep on the stadium will collapse."

Throwing back her shoulders and wishing it had been someone else who'd come upon the whole situation (like, say, _the coach_), Ginny shoved to locker room doors wide open and strode into the room.

To her relief, the situation sounded worse than it actually was. Millicent Bulstrode stopped her frantic pacing and glared at Ginny and Pavarti. Ginny ignored this for the moment, taking a brief survey. She caught Pansy Parkinson quickly removing her arm from around the shoulders of Jessica Bentely, who was red-eyed and sniffling. Ananda Malfoy, however, appeared to have been the one sobbing. Her eyes were still streaming furious tears and she looked angry enough to spit nails.

"What the hell is all this?" Pavarti demanded, staring around at the Slytherin girls with as much shock on her pretty face as Ginny was sure her own possessed.

"We warned him!" Ananda snarled, making Ginny jump. "We _told_ him this would happen. But, oh no, is omnipotent Draco Malfoy ever wrong about anything?"

"What happened?" Ginny asked, crossing to her friend and sitting down beside her on the bench.

"Take a look, Weasley," Millicent said hoarsely, tossing Ginny a piece of parchment that looked as though it had once been smooth and expensive. Judging by how wrinkled and smudged it was, Millicent had held it clenched in her fist for a good, long while.

With a feeling of foreboding in her gut, Ginny unfolded the parchment. Pavarti hurried over to sit beside her.

_Millicent:_

_How are you, darling? I was most relieved that you did so exceptionally well on your midterms. Your father was satisfied – thank Merlin for small favors._

_At any rate, my dear, I was most alarmed when I received a letter from Dumbledore last week suggesting that you wished to play Quidditch. At first, I thought that perhaps you had made your House team and while you know your father does not approve of the sport, we might have been willing to make an exception. However, I understand it that you wish to play on an all-girls' team, supported by the Headmaster, with _Mudbloods. _Are your father and I to understand it, dear, that you wish to participate on a team full of halfbreeds? After all we've been through, teaching you to properly respect your proud, Pureblood heritage! You should know such rabble is beneath you! Neither your father nor I will stand for this nonsense. You will discontinue immediately. As assurance against any foolish disobedience, we expect to receive your broomstick within the next fortnight._

_This may seem harsh, dear, but we're only looking out for your best interests. Associating with Muggles and the like – it's unseemly. We cannot have the family name so dishonored. Your father's looking at a promotion and our reputation as a noble bloodline must be upheld._

_Keep up your grades, and try to forget about Quidditch. It's really not something you're built for, anyway, is it?_

_Keep in touch, _

_Mother_

Ginny looked up slowly, a feeling of dread and a kind of frustrated anger settle into her stomach as she met Millicent's eyes. She really couldn't think of anything to say.

"And – and you all got one like this?" Pavarti asked tentatively, looking around at the others.

"Oh, no," Pansy said sardonically. "Jess, here, got a Howler. Surprised the entire sodding school didn't hear it! It was so foul _your_ mum might have cried, Weasley."

Ginny felt her stomach clench as the jibe at her mum hit close to home. Not because she really cared what Pansy thought of her mother, but because Ginny realized for the first time that she'd not heard a thing from her family about it. She'd sort of forgotten in the heat of intense planning and practice the week before.

Fortunately, she was kept from replying with a suitable retort by the entrance into the lockers of Adrienne, Hannah, Patrice, and Natalie. Their excited chatter was almost immediately replaced by concerned inquiries after the irate Slytherins (Ginny couldn't help smirking at the irony of it all) and the babble didn't die down until Draco made his appearance a few minutes later.

Ginny's heart sank; he was looking in a particularly foul mood and seemed to have dragged Hermione (still protesting) the whole way down from the castle. Ginny couldn't help giggling, though, as her bushy haired friend continued to try to pull free from the coach.

"God, I was almost through!" she snapped.

"You spent ten minutes telling me you were 'almost through' and here we are twenty minutes late to practice!" Draco retorted, releasing her arm. "If your nose had been any closer to that book, Granger, we might have had to remove it to leave the library. That'll be ten extra laps, by the way." Ginny snorted under her breath.

"You waited for Mione for twenty minutes?" Pavarti, who'd evidently been listening, asked in shock.

"Of course I did!" Draco said shortly. He didn't bother to explain, however, as his eyes had been inevitably drawn toward the scene of chaos still encompassing a majority of the locker room.

"What's all this?" he demanded, glaring at everyone, including his Housemates. "Why aren't you all dressed and out warming up?" He spotted Ginny, who was eyeing him with a funny mixture of amusement and alarm, and rounded on her. "Did you put them up to this, Weasel?" he ground out. "'Let's see how nasty the coach'll get if we laze around the lockers when we're supposed to be out' – "

"Leave Gin alone!" Pavarti cut him off loudly. Everyone went very quiet as Draco turned slowly to face the usually self-contained Gryffindor.

"I'll yell until I go hoarse if it suits me, Patil," he said, his voice becoming rather dangerous.

"You'll have good reason to after you've read this," Ananda cut in, getting up from her bench and offering Draco her own crumpled letter from home.

Looking mightily suspicious, the blonde scanned the contents of the rumpled bit of parchment. A moment of ringing silence followed as his eyes lifted slowly from the letter to meet his cousin's unhappy expression.

"How many . . . ?" he began.

"So far, four," Millicent put in, sounding both furious and miserable.

"Five," came a quiet voice from the doorway. Everyone turned to see Susan Bones leading a puffy-eyed Julia Boot into the lockers. Ginny felt like groaning. Having one Seeker and one of their best Chasers in hot water was one thing. Having a _captain_ in the crossfire was almost worse!

"Is the whole team here?" Susie asked softly, leading Jools to a bench.

"Hannah and Betina said they'd be down after their extra credit stuff with Sprout," Patrice spoke up.

"Fine," Draco said, running a hand over his hair and looking annoyed and angry. "There's no reason not to get at least one more good practice in before the shit hits the fan. Everyone, get starking and go start laps. Bones, why don't you take over while I have a word with Boot?"

"Right, girls; let's move!" And as they were ushered to their lockers by the seventh year, Ginny couldn't help feeling a bit of respect for Draco's ability to take control in this sort of situation. It spoke volumes for his ability to manage setbacks such as this.

Although, Ginny thought as she pulled her 'Narcoleptic Hag's Acoustic Wonder Boys' tee shirt over her head, the real test of devotion for Draco – for all of them, really – would be when they decided how to deal. It would also depend largely on how far Dumbledore was willing to let them go. Would he allow them to directly defy their parents?

And what, Ginny wondered as she pulled on her breakaways, would _her_ parents have to say? Never mind her parents – what about her brothers? Not that they could do anything to stop her, of course, but they could make her life hell if they decided they didn't want her on a team under Malfoy – team that might someday play against Gryffindor.

Ginny almost groaned. Now that she was really thinking about it, what would everyone's _Housemates_ have to say about it?

"Galleon for your thoughts." Ginny slammed her locker shut and turned to face Hermione, who was eyeing her shrewdly.

"What a mess, huh?" The redhead laughed humorlessly and gestured around the rather bleak locker room.

"I know," the seventh year returned. "And it couldn't come at a worse time."

"What do you mean?" Ginny felt a sense of foreboding in her gut.

"Whilst dragging me down here," Hermione said, throwing a nasty look at the coach, "Malfoy informed me that he'd just been to see Headmaster and apparently Dumbledore's arranged a meeting with the House captains and Draco to discuss the possibility of competing in the Interhouse Cup."

Ginny _did _groan this time.

"What'll we do, Mione?" she asked quietly as the two made their way out onto the pitch. "At the rate we're going, half the team will be gone by tonight." She paused, a horrible thought striking her. "Mione, what did _your_ parents say?"

"Oh, they're quite keen on it, actually," Hermione said, brightening somewhat. "I sent them a letter about it as well and Dad's thrilled that I'm taking an interest in sports." She frowned. "I think he's hoping I'll start going to football matches and things when I go home this summer."

Ginny grinned a little at that, but she felt her anxiety about her own family gnaw unpleasantly in the pit of her stomach.

"You're worried about Ron, aren't you?"

Ginny nearly jumped out of her skin. Where had _that_ come from?

"How did you – ?"

"Oh, I'd think you daft if you _weren't_ worried about that prat," Hermione said carelessly, hefting her broom a bit higher on her shoulder and glowering. "He'll make a royal spectacle when he finds out about us."

"And – and what do you expect Harry will do?" Ginny asked hesitantly, glancing around to make sure Draco wasn't anywhere nearby.

Hermione looked somber at the mention of her other best friend. It was an expression most of Harry's friends wore these days.

"I don't know, Gin," she said at length. "What you have to understand about Harry is that – "

"Granger, you're already ten laps up," came Draco's sharp voice from somewhere behind the two Gryffindors. "Let's not make it an even fifty, yeah?"

"Stupid git," Ginny growled under her breath, quite annoyed that they'd been so rudely interrupted.

"No, it's all right," Hermione said swiftly, throwing her leg over her broom and hitching her foot into the stirrup. "Do you know, Gin, he hasn't said a cross word to me since he started coaching? I don't mean he's been _nice_ or anything – Merlin forbid – but not one word about Mudbloods or Muggles or halfbreeds or anything unpleasant. On or off the field."

Ginny shrugged helplessly. Draco Malfoy was proving to be less predictable than Ginny had originally anticipated. The redhead snorted. Hermione shot her a questioning look, and then mounted and zoomed up to joined Pansy and Jessica.

Shaking herself, Ginny followed. She was pulled back to her conversation with Draco the previous night and forcibly reminded of his parting words.

_"I'm counting on it."_

This first obstacle, Ginny suddenly realized, was a test of everyone's devotion to this team. Even though that were looking at being torn apart by the negative reactions to their game, they were still flying, still practicing. Draco wasn't the only person whose perseverance had been put to the test. Ginny had little doubt that all Jessica Bentely had wanted to do upon receiving her Howler was to lock herself in her dorm and blast everything in the room to smithereens with a Disjoining Hex. But there she, Millicent, Pansy, and Ananda were, flying high and with more skill than Ginny had seen them exercise in practice in a good, long while.

Lesson one: Conflict made them stronger.

Smiling grimly, Ginny had a silent but aggressive race down the pitch with Adrienne and Susan.

**)BW(**

It was without a doubt the best team practice they'd had in ages. Jessica's mounting fury over the course of the game had led to a record-breaking in Snitch acquisition. She'd even crushed its left wing in her fierce grip and Draco had had to pry it from her hand and give her five extra laps to calm down. The other Slytherins' bad tempers had been equally effective and noticeable. Pansy had scored three goals with absolutely no help from either Hermione or Patrice, with whom she was teaming, and had knocked Hannah through the goal hoop with the force of one shot.

Now Draco had called them into a tight circle and everyone watched expectantly as he paced the middle, a look of concentration and perversity in his face. Thus far, he'd spoken about the importance of continuing to practice as an entire team as long as they could manage.

"I estimate another three days before the rest of your parents respond, and another two after that before we have to come to some decision," the blonde said, glaring around at all of them. "The reality is that some of you may be out for a bit – maybe even permanently."

A moment of heavy silence followed this, and Ginny saw the younger girls in particular looking nervous. For herself, Hermione, and the other older girls, trouble was something that had come to be expected at Hogwarts. Ginny and Hermione in particular had had many adventures in rule breaking. Ironically, it was not their hands that were being called.

"In the meantime, we'll continue to practice," Draco was saying briskly. "I have a meeting with the captains of the house teams and Dumbledore tomorrow and we'll be discussing the possibility of us playing in the Interhouse."

That seemed to cheer many of the girls up.

"For now, let's stretch out and hit the showers," he finished. "I'm famished."

"_Your_ famished?" Jools muttered good-naturedly, nudging passed him and taking a seat beside Susie. She seemed in much better spirits after the talk she and Draco had had prior to practice.

"Yeah – watching you lot is exhausting," Draco retorted with a smirk. And he _winked _at her. Ginny blinked herself, wondering if she'd been seeing things. No one else seemed to have noticed anything, but Ginny thought back and was sure that what she had seen had been a wink at Jools.

Maybe, Ginny thought, it _would_ be instructive to find out what had been said in the lockers.

The others grinned, though probably just at Jools' antics. Ginny took a seat on the grass between Ananda and Pavarti, noting as she straddled her legs that she enjoyed stretching more and more these days. She decided it was because she was actually attaining some flexibility.

"Amazing, Weasel. Your nose seems a few inches closer to the ground than it was last week." Apparently, Ginny hadn't been the only one to notice. It was with mild surprise that she felt a smug grin tug at her lip. She tried to bite it back.

"Don't you smirk at me, Weasley!"

"I wasn't!" she protested, now fighting giggles. Telling someone off for smirking was a bit rich, coming from the god of rude facial expressions.

He bent down in front of her, looking intently at her. It was like one of those horrid keep-from-smiling contests she always lost with Betina. But she couldn't force herself to look away. Perhaps it was because she'd seen Draco's lip twitch as he caught her eye. Perhaps it was to see if the wink was catching.

A moment later, Ginny's face split in a goofy smile and she choked down a giggle. Draco's lip twitched again, before it collapsed into an almost smirk-free grin.

Fancy that – Draco Malfoy having a sense of humor!

**)BW(**

Sorry! I didn't mean for it to end here, but I'm so stuck. Read the author's note!


	6. The Faceoff

Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.'s. Thanks, Goddess of pro-fic.

A/N: HERE YOU GO! Finally, I bet many of you are thinking resentfully. Yes, my most popular fic will at last see an update. And I finally know where it's going, at least for another couple of chapters. Also, I know that in England a bus is known as a coach, so referring to Draco as the head coach of the girls' team has some bizarre (and if you're gutter-mindedly inclined, rather naughty as well) connotations. What do the Brits (bless them!) call a sports trainer (or coach)? Thanks to anyone who can help!

**)BW(**

Chapter 6

**)BW(**

Draco tried very hard not to fidget as he made his way up a set of marble stairs toward Dumbledore's office. He was early for his appointment, but that was by design. It would be easiest for the interview's sake if he had a few moments before the others arrived to compose himself.

He wasn't nervous or anything, but the meeting might come down to a face-off. The four team captains would react in one of several ways, but Draco was sure that none of those responses would be positive. He sighed. For once, he wasn't looking for a fight. More what he was hoping for was to _really_ hack Potter off, prove that for once the Gryffindor Quidditch captain _wasn't_ Dumbledore's favorite boy, and that he, Draco, knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

He stopped abruptly, having almost collided with the stone gargoyle that guarded the "hidden" stairway that led to Dumbledore's office. He had to think for a moment, and then the password came to him.

"Irving's Irresistible Ice Pops." He waited a moment, but the statue stayed still.

"_Damn_!" he muttered, belatedly remembering that it had been over a week since he'd last come up and the Headmaster had undoubtedly changed the password since then. It was an irritating habit of his that had caused Draco grief on more than one memorable occasion. He tried again.

"Er – lemon drop." Nothing. "Orange Tooth Bombs. Sherbet Lemon. Inflatable Éclairs. Black licorice."

"It's Honeyduke's Best Chocolate," came a dry voice from behind him. The gargoyle heaved itself aside to reveal the spiral staircase and Harry Potter stepped into Draco's line of vision.

"Show off," Draco muttered, stepping onto one rotating step and biting back several more graphic insults.

"You're slipping, Malfoy," Potter said, and Draco could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Maybe I've decided you're not worth it, Potter," he spat, not bothering to look down at the Gryffindor.

"Maybe I don't believe you, Malfoy," Potter retorted.

"Maybe I don't care." The stairs drew to a halt and Draco stepped off into the short corridor outside Dumbledore's office. With Potter along, he wasn't going to have the necessary time to compose himself. Oh, well. He'd just have to go for broke. Anyway, Dumbledore was already on his side. It wasn't a matter of winning or losing anymore.

Draco knocked lightly against the heavy oak door.

"Come."

Draco pushed the door open and stepped into the office.

"Ah," Dumbledore said as he stood up from his vast desk with a merry little smile. "Welcome, Mr. Malfoy. And Mr. Potter. You're early."

"Yes, sir," Draco said, and feeling this required some sort of viable explanation – in other words, he didn't want to appear as though he'd come early to show everyone else up – he added, "I just had an idea to run by you. The – girls and I have been using the spare – room for quite a bit now and were wondering if we could just sort of adopt it as ours." He didn't want to let Potter in on what he'd been called in here for, so mentioning _lockers_ was probably not a good idea.

"Ah, yes," the Headmaster said, "yes, I'd been wondering about that. I have no problem with you taking it, providing we don't have any visitors this year." Clearly, Dumbledore had cottoned on. "You will, of course, need to run this by the others, but I don't see that they'll object. While we wait for them, why don't you two gentlemen sit down?"

Draco took the nearest chair, catching the curious – and vaguely suspicious – look on Potter's face as he passed.

"And I need to speak with you after this meeting, too, sir," Draco added. "Something a bit unexpected has come up."

"Certainly, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said, giving him a swift, piercing look.

"Who else are we waiting for, sir?" Potter asked the Headmaster. Draco hid a smirk. At Draco's request, Dumbledore hadn't informed the team captains of why he was calling an impromptu meeting. In fact, none of them knew anything at all about it other than when to show up and where.

"Just three others, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore answered him with a twinkle of his bright eyes.

Fortunately, they didn't have to wait long. Ernie McMillan of Hufflepuff, Terry Boot of Ravenclaw, and Gus Godkin of Slytherin came into the room, all looking rather confused. McMillan looked a bit nervous. Probably worried he was in some sort of trouble, Draco thought contemptuously.

All of them looked surprised to see Draco.

"What's all this, Professor?" Gus asked coolly.

"Please, sit down, gentlemen," Dumbledore said smoothly, indicating three more chairs that had been arranged in such a way that the five boys were in a semicircle in front of Dumbledore's massive desk. The three captains sat, McMillan and Boot saying their hellos to Potter. Gus, in true Slytherin fashion, pretended the Boy Who Lived wasn't there, and instead nodded to Draco. Whatever respect his injuries in Quidditch might have cost him, he still commanded a fair amount of esteem outside the sport. Hopefully, after today, he'd be back to full Quidditch icon status.

Somehow, he doubted it would work out that way.

"Now, then," Dumbledore said, after everyone was seated and staring expectantly at him. "I'm assuming you've all surmised that this meeting is Quidditch related." The four captains nodded. "However, I don't want you laboring under false pretenses. I'm not the one who called this meeting. Mr. Malfoy did. The only reason I am here is to see to such logistical ends as may be needed, as well as to see to any facilitation that might become necessary." His eyes twinkled. Draco tried not to wince. Dumbledore had added that last sentence as a disclaimer, he knew. It was his way of telling the other boys that he wasn't there to protect Draco from them, but simply to, as he'd said, facilitate. Draco hoped the comment hadn't been misconstrued as defensive.

"So," Gus said, turning immediately to Draco, "what's this all about, Malfoy?"

Draco took a moment to look around at the other boys, taking care to collect his thoughts before opening his mouth.

"I asked the Headmaster to hold this meeting because I have an – idea to run by the four of you," Draco began slowly. "As you may be aware, there's an as yet unofficial girls' team playing at Hogwarts. Fourteen girls from all four Houses and from almost every year have been practicing at least six days a week for quite some time now. In the beginning, they only had two team captains and they were only playing for kicks. Now – " he paused, then took the plunge – "I've been brought in as head coach and they're about to become an official team – here at Hogwarts at least."

It was as dramatic an opening as he could have hoped for. Boot and McMillan looked thoroughly shocked. Potter's eyebrows were lost in his hairline and Gus' expression had become disbelieving.

"The thing is," Draco went on, after allowing a moment for the first bit of news to sink in, "they're good. Quite apart from spending hours and hours training, they're exceptionally coordinated and have a natural affinity for teamwork. Quite a few of them are just plain natural at it. The problem is that they've no one to compete against but each other. They come from all four Houses, so how could they play against any of the school's teams, what with the points and all?" Draco paused, feeling he was on the home stretch. "Basically, that's what I've asked you all to come here for. I need your permission for my girls to play in the Interhouse championship."

There was a _long_ pause. Draco let his eyes travel from captain to captain. Gus stilled looked disbelieving and even a bit disgusted. Draco had rather expected that, although he'd been harboring the faint hope that his Housemate would see the whole thing as a devious plot to get Draco back into the Quidditch spotlight. From what the blonde could tell, Gus was in fact appalled just such a thing had happened.

Draco's eyes moved on to Boot. He wasn't hiding his look of incredulity, but there was something else there, too. Something that Draco liked to think was interest. Being a Ravenclaw, Boot had probably already calculated the improbability of Draco's getting the coaching job in the first place, and the even more impressing improbability of his being able to keep it going. But if anyone took Draco's part, it would probably be Boot. Although they resented each other on principle, the Ravenclaw would be interested to see what Draco made of the team.

McMillan looked ruffled. Draco knew the Hufflepuff took himself fairly seriously (the_ why_ of it was still beyond Draco's comprehension) and he was probably alternating between annoyance at Draco for even suggesting something so unorthodox and offense that some of his Housemates had signed onto the team without consulting him, personally. Not that any of this mattered. The stupid Prefect was about as sharp as a blunt stick. If the other three captains gave their consent (for whatever it was worth – Dumbledore's permission had already been given), McMillan wouldn't be able to come up with a viable objection on his own.

Potter's expression was oddly closed, but Draco had dealt with the git long enough to recognize certain telltale signs of an adversarial standing. Whatever else he might be, Potter wasn't stupid. He was seeing far more to this than any of the others. He was seeing duplicity. Why would Draco volunteer for something like this if he didn't have ulterior motives?

Oh, Draco had ulterior motives, of course. But they weren't connected in any way to You-Know-Who, Death Eaters, or sleeping with various team members. Draco simply wanted Quidditch glory. That was all. He'd worked damned hard to become the best, and the chance of doing that by himself had been lost to him last year.

"Comments, gentlemen?" Dumbledore's voice cut through the charged silence.

"Why you?" Boot asked immediately.

Draco sighed. There weren't many ways of presenting this without making himself look weak, but he tried anyway.

"A friend of mine recommended me to one of the girls because I'm not longer on my House team – "

"Because of your injury – " Gus put in rather snidely.

"Yes," Draco confirmed, controlling his temper with an effort. Gus was trying to throw him off and make him look bad in front of the other three boys and Draco wasn't about to let him succeed. "So the girls asked me and I thought I'd give it a go. As we went on with practice, it became clear to me that they weren't merely good. They have incredible potential and I intend to develop that in whatever direction we all deem the best."

There. Gus wasn't looking nearly so smug now. He'd been hoping to throw Draco off and had failed abysmally.

"Who's on your team?" That was Potter, blunt as the Whomping Willow.

Biting off the impulsively sarcastic response on the tip of his tongue, Draco responded coolly, "Does it make a difference in this particular discussion?"

"I suppose not – but I'd like to know, all the same." Potter's eyes flashed and his eyebrows rose challengingly.

"Indeed – I'm interested to know as well," McMillan spoke up rather pompously.

"It's not really a secret," Draco said, suppressing a sigh. Then he got a rather wicked idea. "But I'll only discuss it with you right now if you promise me that you won't leave here and go running off to harass them about it. You may not like that your Housemates are playing with girls from other Houses instead of for your own Houses, but that was _your_ loss for not putting them on your teams in the first place. They chose this instead and you have no right to hold them up for that."

A glance at Dumbledore showed that the ploy had worked. The Headmaster was nodding approvingly at him and smiling slightly. Potter's eyes had narrowed, not really giving away whether that had been his plan or not. McMillan, transparent as a clean window, blushed and looked self-conscious.

"Fine," he and Potter muttered.

"The team, at present, has four Gryffindors, four Hufflepuffs, two Ravenclaws, and four Slytherins – we're fairly evenly divided, I think. Our Beaters are Millicent Bulstrode, Natalie McDonald, Jools Boot, and Pavarti Patil. Our Seekers are Betina Johnson and Jess Bentely. Our Keepers are Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones. And our Chasers are Ananda Malfoy, Adrienne Abbot, Pansy Parkinson, Patrice Patil, Ginny Weasley, and Hermione Granger. Bones and Boot are co-captaining."

Draco had the intense satisfaction of seeing Potter's jaw drop even as his eyes widened. Draco couldn't decide whether the git was more floored by Pavarti Patil worrying about something other than her French manicure or Hermione Granger being involved in Quidditch. Boot looked mildly surprised that his twin was playing Quidditch – and was captain, no less – but didn't look bothered by the knowledge.

"Did you have any more questions?" Draco asked coolly, deliberately leaving the rest floored by the various names he'd thrown at them. He rather hoped it would put them off some of the more awkward questions he'd been expecting.

Boot spoke up again.

"You say 'at present' those girls are on the team," the Ravenclaw said suspiciously. "Do you plan to make changes?"

Here was a difficult question – one that Draco had been hoping to avoid. He still hadn't discussed the alarming parental objections with Dumbledore. Unfortunately, Draco knew that even if he _were_ to bring that up, the Ravenclaw captain wasn't interested. What he wanted to know was whether Draco had plans to weed out all the girls he didn't like whilst he was still developing the team.

"Any changes that are made," Draco returned carefully, "will be up to the team. The girls _are_ free to quit whenever they choose, of course. If you're asking do I, personally, have plans to send certain girls packing, that's not something I, alone, can or would do. I'm just the coach – major decisions like that need to be discussed with the girl in question and the team captains."

There – that ought to throw some of them off. Indeed, Boot looked satisfied with that answer and McMillan looked disappointed. Potter, unsurprisingly, still looked suspicious and Gus, disdainful. Draco knew that they were going to be the challenge now. Boot and McMillan might not like him, but if they were convinced he was being fair and relatively moral about the whole thing, they'd not oppose him.

"And what about the Interhouse championship?" McMillan asked after another moment. "How would points be handled? How would your team be added into the lineup?"

"_Our_ team," Draco corrected – let them think he was being moral, "would simply be allowed to challenge each of the House teams in the same way the Houses usually do. Essentially, they'd be the fifth House. Think of it as several more Quidditch matches we wouldn't get to have otherwise."

"And points?" Boot asked. Most of his reserve seemed to be gone and he now sounded curious.

"Every time we win a match – hypothetically, of course," he added with forced modestly (he could almost see Potter's eyes rolling), "the points we won would be divided evenly between the four houses. Each house would actually benefit from our wins because then _everyone_ would get something."

"Why would you want to do that?" Gus asked, as though the idea of getting points if his team lost was completely offensive.

"What're we going to do with points?" Draco retorted. "We've got no use for them. And we're not in this for glory. The girls desperately need practice against more diverse teams. Consider this our due for being allowed to play in the Interhouse. Think of it as _payment_, if you want."

There was another long silence as the captains mulled this over. Draco held his breath, hoping he'd answered enough of their questions to be done with it.

"Do you have any objections, Captains, to the girls' team competing with you?" Dumbledore cut in mildly.

Oh, of course they did. But none of those objections really stood up in an argument. Draco was sure none of them liked the idea of their Houses being so closely connected. But that was hardly a case Dumbledore would appreciate and they all knew it.

When the silence continued, Dumbledore clapped his hands together and smiled round at them all. Draco began to breathe again.

"I had one other request," Draco said, suddenly remembering the lockers. "The girls have been using the spare lockers we've got for visiting teams from other schools. We were wondering, since we haven't had a visiting team in over fifty years, if any of you had a problem with us adopting them as ours."

No one spoke, which Draco took as a positive. Apparently, so did Dumbledore.

"Well, then," the Headmaster said cheerfully. "Now that that's taken care of, I shall make arrangements with Madam Hooch to rearrange the scheduled matches and integrate the girls' team into the practice schedule, as well as having those lockers refurbished with your team colors."

"That's not necessary, sir," Draco said quickly. He didn't want to push his luck. "We've been practicing around the other teams schedules, and we can just keep doing that. And we'll just keep on with the lockers as they are." He didn't mention that they hadn't chosen colors or a mascot yet.

"Nonsense, Mr. Malfoy," the Headmaster said genially. "You need your practice time as much as the others and those lockers are rather bare. And now, gentlemen, I believe you all have afternoon classes to attend. Good day."

The other captains stood and moved to the door, except Potter who stayed resolutely in his chair.

"I need to speak with you, sir," he said quietly, eyeing Draco darkly, "when you've got a moment."

"Certainly, Harry," Dumbledore said, giving the Gryffindor a slight nod. "Just let me finish up with Draco. You had something else to discuss?"

"Yes, sir," he said. He hated to talk of it in front of Potter, but had little choice as the git apparently had no intention of leaving. "We've also had a – um, _minor_ setback."

"Indeed?" Again, with the piercing look. Draco hated that.

"Yes, sir," he said carefully. "This morning, several of my girls received letters from home, some of them rather strenuously objecting to them playing."

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore said, nodding and steepling his fingers under his chin. "I'd been wondering if this wouldn't happen."  
He stared off into space for a long moment, then turned his eyes back to Draco. "And what is it you need from me?"

"Well," Draco said, faintly taken aback. He'd thought it was obvious. "I need to know what sort of power I – _we_, the team – have here. Can they still play, for example?"

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore sighed, and he looked genuinely troubled. "I'm afraid we've hit something of a wall. You see, I have certain power within Hogwarts, but _never_ above that of the parents with regard to their children. If parents are saying that their children cannot play, I'm afraid they cannot."

"_What_?" Draco snapped, staring at him in disbelief. "But – but, sir," he said, lowering his voice and trying to keep his composure. After all, Potter was watching, blast him. "That may mean over half the team gone."

"I'm sorry, Draco." And Dumbledore really looked it. "You know I fully support the aims of your project. But I _cannot_ override parental rights." He paused, looking deep in thought again. At last, he looked up, a cautious expression on his face.

"You do have one small loophole, however," he said slowly.

"And that is . . . ?" Draco asked impatiently.

"Quite a few of your girls are of age, are they not?"

"Yes, sir." Draco wondered what difference it made.

"Well, I believe that in their case, we may have the advantage."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"He means that those girls are technically adults," Potter spoke up.

"Indeed." And Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at Draco, waiting for him to work it out. A moment later, the Slytherin got it.

"So they _can_ still play, because they're legal adults and have certain rights," Draco said, feeling his heart give a jolt of hope. This might, perhaps save the team!

"If they choose, then yes," Dumbledore said carefully. "But that decision might have consequences, so would advise the girls to think long and carefully about how badly they want to play."

"Right." Draco knew only too well what Millicent or Pansy's parents might do – never mind his own! "We're meeting this evening for practice, so I'll discuss this with them then. Thanks, sir."

"I wish I could do more, Draco," the Headmaster said, looking genuinely sorry. He clasped his hands together and stood up. "Well, then. If that's all, I'll bid you good afternoon."

"Good afternoon, sir," and without a look at Potter, Draco turned and left the room with quick, purposeful strides. He'd never have admitted it, but it was quite a relief to have that confrontation over with.

He descended the stairs quickly, and had just stepped out from behind the stone gargoyle when he was nearly jumped by three excited girls.

"Well?" Jools demanded, hands on her hips. "What happened?"

"Aren't you all supposed to be in class?" he asked, deliberately turning away from them and heading off down the corridor.

"Oh, come _on_, coach!" Adrienne Abbot cajoled eagerly. "Can we play in the Interhouse?"

"And what did all the captains have to say about it?" Natalie McDonald demanded, skipping excitedly along beside him.

He was about to tell them all to scamper off, when he caught sight of blindingly red hair not twenty meters from where he was. Not doubting for an instant that it was the little Weasel waiting to pounce on him as well, Draco steeled himself to say something particularly cutting to her. However, as they drew closer, he saw that her head was bent over what appeared to be several rolls of parchment. Drawing still closer, he caught a glimmer of wetness on her chairs that sparkled in the autumn sunlight coming through the opposite window.

"Look," he said, coming to a halt just out of earshot of her and glaring round at Jools, Abbot, and McDonald. "We've got practice this evening and we'll discuss it then. Unless you want to be doing fifty laps _each_ while I explain everything to the other girls, I suggest you get the hell back to class. Yes, that goes for you, too, Miss Captain."

She gave him a glower that hadn't much weight behind it.

"Fine," she muttered at last. "Come on, girls. Trelawney'll never have missed you if you go now. In fact, tell her you were nearly killed by a stampede in the fifth floor corridor – hi, Gin – and it was only thanks to the alignment of Mars and Saturn that your lives were spared. No, wait, she won't like the good news . . . " Her voice faded away.

"Thanks _Merlin_," Draco muttered, his eyes drifting back to Ginny, who was now watching him expectantly.

"I could take fifty points from Gryffindor for you skipping class," he pointed out. He was annoyed when she didn't respond, but continued to stare bleakly at him.

"I suppose," he said rather sharply, "you're waiting to know what happened, too."

"Not really," she said, her voice rather hoarse. "I mean, I can wait till tonight. It's just – I thought you'd want to know – my parents – " She broke off. Draco saw her swallow hard as her eyes dropped back to the parchment in her hand.

"What, Weasley?" he asked with some trepidation. He had a nasty feeling he knew what she was going to say.

"What do you think?" she snapped quietly. "My parents don't want me on the team."

Even though he'd been expecting that, Draco felt something funny stir in his chest. He let the silence hang for a moment, then asked, "When did you get the letter?"

"Oh, this morning over breakfast!" she spat, looking suddenly furious. "Mione knew what was wrong, of course. She gave me this look, like 'don't make a scene', so I left. Then Ron followed me out wanting to know what was wrong, and I snapped at him and now I feel bad – but anyway, Mione found me after breakfast, and apparently," she was absolutely hissing now, "_apparently_, my parents told one or more of my brothers about this ruddy team and _every single one of them sent me an objection, _which Mione kindly waited to give me until morning break so I could make a proper scene in the Gryffindor common room!"

"My god, how did she manage to carry them all on her own? Did she have to hire a cart-horse?"

Ginny's look became slightly less volatile and her lips actually twitched in a weak smile.

"Anyway," she said after a moment's pause. "I just wanted you to know where I am if I'm not at practice tonight."

"Hold up, Weasel," Draco cut her off. "Perhaps I'm missing something. _Why_ won't you be at practice?"

"Well – " Ginny looked slightly surprised. "I can't play anymore, can I? Unless," and now she looked suddenly hopeful, "unless Dumbledore's said we don't really _need_ parental permission."

"Dream on," Draco snorted.

Ginny looked defeated.

"Why won't your parents let you play?" Draco asked after another moment.

Ginny laughed humorlessly.

"It's quite pathetic, actually," she said. "My mum said that when she first read Dumbledore's letter, she was thrilled by the idea of us working so hard to 'improve Interhouse relations.' As if that's the only reason to start playing Quidditch! But then she found out your were coaching and suddenly she's demanding that I resign immediately and stay safely tucked away up in Gryffindor where I belong."

"It was because of me? That's the _only_ reason you're not allowed to play anymore?" Draco demanded, staring disbelievingly at her.

"Oh, honestly, Malfoy – "

"_Coach_!"

"Whatever. Our families are mortal enemies. How many times has your dad tried to kill my family and close friends? He tried to kill me in my first year, for Merlin's sake! My mum's terrified that this is some ploy to get me and Mione hurt. She's even written to Mione's parents to recommend they take back their permission. She wants me to mail home my broom." Ginny looked miserable. "She even threatened to send Bill or Charlie to come look in on me."

Draco stood motionless. He couldn't quite believe what she'd just said. He was alternating between despair that he might potentially loose two of his best Chasers, and absolute fury and indignation over the charges laid before him by Ginny's mum.

"So that's it, then?" he said, his voice deadly quiet. "She and your git brothers aren't going to let you play because they think that I'm a little drone version of my father and I'm out to kill all of you?"

"That's the general consensus, it would seem," Ginny said bluntly. She still looked miserable.

"What the fuck is wrong with people?" Draco muttered furiously. "What did I ever do to deserve this crap?"

"You want the long list or the short list?"

"One-hundred laps, you annoying twat – "

"Oh, give it a rest, Draco!" Ginny hissed, surprising them both by using his first name for possibly the first time. "They've got plenty of reason to mistrust you. So have I, come to that. But," she added, holding up her hand, "I also know that people can be judgmental. Despite the fact that up until _very_ recently you treated Hermione like garbage and went out of your way to get Ron and Harry into trouble and were generally agreed to be _the meanest_ person at Hogwarts and widely believed to be future Death Eater – let's face it. You're not your dad, and unless you prove yourself to be that way, I at least am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. So far you've been a good coach. I appreciate that and I would like to see you stay on."

"Thanks, Weasel – your confidence is certainly a load off my mind," he said, glaring at her. All the same, he couldn't help but feel some relief. Despite the fact that he _had _given Ginny plenty of reasons not to trust him and the fact that his family had been out to get hers, undoubtedly for generations, she trusted him to do his job.

She trusted him.

"I knew it would be," she said with another small smile. Glancing down at the crumpled parchment in her hand, she sighed. "I wished they'd all lay off."

"Oh, you said it yourself, Weasley, I've made myself quite unpopular and rather untrustworthy," he said with a shrug. "They have every reason not to want you spending more time near me than is absolutely necessary."

"What – that's crap!" Ginny snapped, as though it was _his_ fault her parents were being ridiculous. "If you wanted to hurt me, it wouldn't take a lot to hunt me down. Not even Hogwarts is that big."

"You're preaching to the choir, Weasley," he pointed out.

"Oh, shut up!" she muttered. She continued to stare down at the crumpled parchment for a moment, then sighed. "Right – well, I suppose I'd better get back to class. Binns won't have missed me, but we're studying the Werewolf Code of Conduct and I'll need it on our midterm."

She turned and trudged slowly off down the corridor.

"Weasley!" he called after her.

Ginny turned, her eyes rather dull.

"Yes?"

"See that you're at practice tonight," he said, rather sharply. "You may be temporarily out of the game, but there's no reason you can't keep coming, even if you don't fly."

"What's the point?" she asked.

"The point is that until you resign I'm still your coach and I'm telling you to _be there_," he snapped.

She quirked a small smile.

"Sure – coach."

He stood watching her retreating back, feeling a grim sense of injustice at the whole situation. Still, like he'd said, she wasn't officially off the team until she resigned and she hadn't yet. She could come and watch, help Granger and Pansy improve their goals and if they got exceptionally lucky, be allowed back on the team if she bugged her family about it enough.

This hopeful thought still in mind, Draco headed off to catch the end of his Potions class.

**)BW(**

Ginny was still feeling miserable at dinner that night. So miserable, in fact, that she didn't really mind the less-than-pleasant looks being sent her way by many of the other Gryffindors. Hermione, who was seated to her left, wasn't talking much either, and was doing an exceptionally good job of ignoring Ron, who was glowering at her from halfway down the table and Harry, who was picking uninterestedly at his dinner.

The rest of the school's reception to the news of the girls' team, headed by Draco and playing in the Interhouse, had not been a kind one. Ginny could see Hannah, Susie, Betina, and Patrice sitting at the very end of the Hufflepuff table and being studiously ignored by all those around them.

They were really in trouble if the faithful Hufflepuffs were abandoning their own, Ginny thought glumly. The Ravenclaw and Slytherin girls were similarly segregated, but she wasn't really surprised. The consensus was that these fourteen girls were traitors and that was that.

"God, this is depressing," Natalie mumbled to Ginny from across the table. "Now I know how Harry felt during the first task in the Triwizard." She threw a glance at Dennis Creevey, who was muttering to his brother and occasionally glaring back at her.

"Except that they haven't made any badges defaming us yet," Hermione pointed out darkly, stabbing her pork viciously.

"Think it's dead already," Pavarti said, giving Hermione a weak smile. Hermione sighed and dropped her fork, leaning her head on her hand and returning Pavarti's smile with a forced one.

"Never mind – they'll all come round when they adjust to it," she said, obviously trying to cheer the other seventh year up.

"And when we've kicked all their sorry arses," Natalie said with some venom.

"I doubt it – bloody Gryffindor pride," Pavarti said, glaring down the long table at her Housemates. She had, Ginny decided, probably taken the worst of the beating. Lavender, her best friend in the whole world _and_ dorm mate, wasn't speaking to her. They'd had a monstrous row in the common room shortly before dinner – Lavender accusing Pavarti of 'turning traitor' and Pavarti insisting that Lavender was being a right stroppy cow over the whole thing – and in the end, Lavender had pulled her friendship bracelet off and cast it into the fire. Pavarti would probably have hit her had Hermione not dove across the common room and pulled her away, saying loudly and deliberately that selfish prats just weren't worth it. It was, perhaps, the meanest thing Ginny had ever heard Hermione say, and despite herself, the red head was impressed.

Not long after, Hermione had led a shaking Pavarti away to their dorm and Ginny had found them an hour later sitting on Hermione bed while Pavarti sobbed hysterically onto Hermione's shoulder.

Now the seventh year looked as upset as Ginny felt.

"There's something wrong with this school," the redhead muttered to her mashed potatoes.

"Honestly, what did you expect, Gin?" Hermione asked glumly. "We're throwing aside centuries of rivalry, ignoring all the unwritten rules of 'House pride'," she made large, exaggerated quotations in the air with her fingers, "and generally not being properly hateful. Obviously, something's very wrong with us."

"Oh, obviously," Ginny said, glancing over at her friend with respect.

"You should be captain, Mione," Natalie said, also looked impressed. "You deal with things well."

Hermione looked flattered and her cheeks went a bit red, but she said, "Naw. Jools and Susie are excellent. I'm just a bossy know-it-all."

"You aren't!" three voices chorused so loudly that half the table turned resentful glares on them. They ignored this.

"Mione, you're a natural leader!" Ginny insisted. "Harry and Ron couldn't do anything properly without you."

She said this quite loudly, and saw the accused turn nasty looks her. She narrowed her eyes at them and turned away. They had once again banded together against Hermione, simply because they didn't like what she was doing, and it _really_ hacked Ginny off. But unlike last time, Hermione had a whole host of girlfriends to turn to instead of being all alone, like she had in Ginny's second year over the whole Firebolt/Scabbers fandango.

"It's funny," Hermione said, looking thoughtful and ignoring Harry and Ron completely. "Normally, I love being in charge and stuff, but now – with the team, I mean – I'm contented to just play. I don't feel like I need to be in control or anything. I trust Jools, Susie, and Malfoy to do a good job."

"They're quite a good set, aren't they?" Natalie nodded.

"And we're especially good-looking," came a voice from behind Ginny. She grinned a bit and turned to face said blonde coach.

"Yes?" she said, lifting her eyebrows.

"Practice in ten, Weasley," he said, drawl on full power. "And you owe me a hundred laps, so I suggest you get there early."

"But – but my letter – " she began, staring at him.

"We'll pretend you've not gotten it yet," he said smoothly. "What, don't feel like flying?"

"Shut up – _coach_," she said, cracking a genuine smile.

"That's a hundred and ten laps, Weasley," he smirked at her. Then turning, he glared at the rest of the table with a "Well – what're you all looking at?" before strutting confidently away with the mother of all sneers on his pale face.

Natalie giggled.

"He enjoys animosity, doesn't he?" Pavarti said, staring after him with a look of reluctant respect at his coolness.

"Enjoying Malfoy's charms?"

The four girls turned to look down at Ron, whose face was beat red. He was glowering at Hermione.

"Oh, nark off," she said coolly, deliberately ruffling the pages of her _Witch_ _Broomstick_ and affecting to read. Ginny could just see her jaw clenching.

"You know, now that you and him are so chummy, you could just transfer to Slytherin," her brother went on furiously.

Suddenly, Hermione was on her feet behind him, a high voltage glare fixed on his upturned face.

"I hit him once, Ron," she hissed. "I could hit you, too."

Ron looked floored. Ginny knew that Hermione had nearly cursed Malfoy during their third year and had indeed decked the blonde. Threatening to do the same to Ron, she assumed, was an insult of the highest kind.

When Ron only sat gaping at her like a fish out of water and Harry looking slightly stunned at her venom himself, Hermione turned and stalked away.

"Come on," she said harshly to the other three. "We've got practice."

"She gets more volatile every day," Natalie murmured to Ginny as the girls got to their feet and left the Great Hall. Halfway to the doors, they were joined by the Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and incredibly, the Slytherin girls.

"The dung's hit the fan, so there's no reason to skulk around pretending not to know each other now," Pansy said, in answer to Ginny's unasked question.

A last glance over her shoulder showed Ginny a room full of glaring faces.

"Such a good omen for our first stint as a competitive team," Adrienne said uneasily, her eyes following Ginny's.

"Let 'em be nasty," Millicent said coolly. "They'll get over it."

"And if they don't, we'll hex the lot of them," Ananda added cheerfully. She seemed to be enjoying the adversarial atmosphere as much as her cousin.

The team crossed the Entrance Hall and headed down the grassy lawn to the Pitch, most of them chattering determinedly, as though determined to forget that they were hated by most of the school at the moment.

In spite of her own dark mood, Ginny couldn't help smiling.

They were indeed, at last, a team.

Draco was waiting for them in the lockers, looking as arrogant as usual.

"You'll all late," he drawled as they took up their usual semi-circle of seats around him. "Just because we're not the most popular people in Hogwarts is no excuse to move in a pack."

Some of them grumbled half-heartedly at this, but Ginny could tell that they were all encouraged by his 'devil may care' attitude.

"So," Jools said as they settled in, "what's the word with Dumbledore, coach?"

Ginny saw that the captain's knuckled her white where they gripped the bench. It wasn't a good sign when Draco's eyes darkened.

"I'm only going to go through all of this once, so you'd better listen carefully," he said. "To start with, these lockers are now officially ours and Dumbledore's having them redecorated with our team colors and mascot, neither of which we have yet. We'll need to decide on both sometime within the next week, so be thinking about what would best represent the team. Also, we _will_ be playing in the Interhouse – " he was cut off by a storm of cheers and stamping.

"Cut it out!" he called over the racket, but there was the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. The 'racket' took a good moment to die down. "Yes, that's the good news. The other captains aren't happy about it, but there wasn't really anything they could do. So we'll be playing _very _soon. And I'm warning you all now," he said, his voice dropping – they all leaned in to listen, "they are _good_. Ravenclaw's got an excellent lineup. And Gryffindor's a shoe-in for the House Cup this year." He managed to say this without more than a slight sneer. "So be prepared to play _hard_. It's violent, and both Gryffindor and Slytherin game _hard_. I know some of you have played on House teams before," he glanced at Ginny, "so keep that in mind while we practice."

He paused, and Ginny knew he was coming to the hardest part of his speech.

"There _is_ bad news," he went on, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "Some of you have gotten letters from your families objecting to your playing on the team. I talked to Dumbledore about it and he says that he has no power to overrule your parents."

In sharp contrast to their first response, the room stayed deadly quiet. Draco went on.

"Now I know some of you were thinking you could talk your parents into changing their minds about this," he said, glancing at Jools," and I encourage you to try now. In the meantime, there isn't a law saying you can't watch, and you aren't officially off the team until you resign. Anyone who thinks they might still be able to play should stick around until they're one-hundred percent, either way."

He paused for a moment.

"There _is_ one loophole," he said slowly. "Quite a few of you are of age or about to come of age. Because you will then be legal adults, you will have the right to remain on the team – against the wishes of your parents. Dumbledore can't refute the responses of your parents – you can." He eyed each of the Slytherin girls. All looked down as they met his eyes.

"At any rate, _everyone_ flies tonight," he said softly. "This may be the last time we all practice together, so it'd better be the best damn practice we've ever had."

A moment's silence, and then everyone began cheering and stamping, pent up nerves at last getting the better of them.

"Kay, girl, get suited up!" Susie called over the racket.

"That may have been Malfoy's best speech ever," Pavarti said, following Ginny over to their lockers.

"If I didn't know better, Pavarti," Ginny said with a mischievous smile, "I'd say you were starting to fancy the coach."

"Ew, Gin!" she squealed, slapping Ginny's arm. "That's sick making."

Bantering back and forth, they stripped down to their sweats and tank tops and followed Millicent and Hannah out onto the field.

"I believe you're a hundred and ten laps up, Weasel," came Draco's voice from right behind her. "I suggest you start now."

"Oh, sod off," Ginny muttered, but quietly enough so he wouldn't hear.

It was, undoubtedly, their best practice ever. Everyone played harder, faster, and more skillfully than ever before. Hermione, who was apparently still furious at Ron over the row at dinner, managed to shoot three of the five goals for their team flawlessly. She even performed her first even aerial, even though it was finally decided that they were, indeed, considered Haversacking.

Ginny managed not to drop or fumbled a singer pass or catch and even accidentally intercepted a potential Snitch-catching by opposing Seeker Betina by diving straight between her and the Snitch whilst chasing the Quaffle.

When they landed, after four matches, countless laps, and several near-crashes due to the descending darkness, Draco just looked around at them all and said, "Brilliant. Simply brilliant. Stretch out."

They did, quietly; all keenly aware that by tomorrow, many of their fellows might be off the team for good.

Draco had apparently had the same thought.

"I'm going to pull you aside one at a time while you're stretching," he told them. "I need to know, now, who'll be coming back for practice tomorrow."

The already sober atmosphere darkened a bit.

"Boot," he said. Susie gave her hand a squeeze and the other girls nodded encouragingly as Jools followed Draco to the edge of the field. As she strattled her legs and reached her arms out in front of her, Ginny watched them. Jools looked serious, and Draco, grim. But after a few minutes, Jools had cracked a smile and Draco nodded.

"Think Jools is here to stay," Hannah whispered to Ginny. Ginny smiled and nodded. Jools was seventeen, and therefore able to go against the wishes of her parents if she chose.

Ginny's eyes traveled back to Jools and Draco, in time to note, with some surprise, that Draco's arm was around Jools' shoulders. Then, to her even greater surprise, he offered her a grin, without the usual malicious undertones. After another moment, Draco's arm dropped and Jools strode into the lockers.

"Abbot – the short one," Draco called. Everyone laughed a bit at that as Hannah (the eldest, but nowhere near as tall as her kid sister) got to her feet and trotted off across the field.

And so it continued. Ginny tried to gauge the reactions of each girl as best she could. It was easy to tell with some of the younger girls, who would sometimes burst into tears. Despite her sympathy and indignation over how unfair the whole thing was, Ginny couldn't help being amused at Draco's obvious discomfort at dealing with some of them. Indeed, Adrienne got so worked up that at last she flung her arms round him and started positively howling – Ginny couldn't tell whether she was upset or overjoyed. Draco's expression was enough to convulse a saint, and Ginny giggled so hard she got the hiccups.

At last, she was the only one left on the pitch. Hermione had just vanished into the lockers, looking tired, but satisfied and Ginny knew that her friend was as good as permanently fixed on the team.

"Come on in, Weasley," Draco called to her. Feeling rather wobbly after nearly a half-hour's worth of stretching, Ginny got slowly to her feet and trudged across the field. She'd been trying not to think about it, but she knew that this practice might well have been her last with the team.

"So," Draco said as she drew level with him.

"So," Ginny deadpanned, not looking at him but choosing instead to regard the goalpost opposite them across the field. "Guess that was it."

"Any chance your parents'll come round?" he asked, not sounding very hopeful himself.

"Probably not," she sighed, feeling her gut twist with anger and defeat. "My mum's so stubborn. And I'm still Daddy's little girl. I suppose if Charlie talked to them for me – but he never would unless he saw us play."

"Have him come out then," Draco said forcefully. Ginny looked up at him in surprise. He looked serious. "I mean it, Weasley. There's no reason for you to lie down and take this."

"Why do you care so much?" she asked curiously. Her mind involuntarily flashed back to Blaise's words.

"_He'll want to train _you._"_

"Because I can't wait to see your brother and Potter's faces when you score every goal in our first match," he said bluntly. It wasn't a real answer, but Ginny supposed it was all she would get.

"Sure," she said. "Every goal."

"Come on, Weasley – how bad do you want this?"

"Don't do that!" she snapped, turning away. "I want this more than anything! I've always wanted to play! Ever since I was little and Charlie got on the House team. I want to show them I can play better than any of them! I want – " she broke off as her voice caught. She hadn't realized until now how badly she _did_ want this.

"Then make it happen," he said softly. Ginny angrily brushed a tear off her cheek as she turned back to glare at him. He was glaring back, and without warning had grabbed her shoulder roughly. Giving her a shake, he said, "You can do anything you want, Ginny. _Anything_. If you want it badly enough. You can convince your parents. You're clever – what'll push their buttons so they'll think your way? If you think your brother might do it, find a way to convince him." He suddenly seemed to realized that her eyes were wide and glittering, because he quickly let go and stepped back.

"In the meantime," he said, his voice businesslike again, "keep coming and watching practice. You can work with Granger, Patil, and Pansy on variations on the aerial so it's not illegal and do some ground training on your own."

Without another word, he turned and strode away across the stadium.

Ginny watched him until he vanished into the darkness.

**)BW(**

Ah-ha! Another chapter for your dining and dancing pleasure. A good, long one, too. Next chappy you'll find out whose on, off, and on probation. I may even try to put their first match in as well. Thanks for your patience.

Cheers!


	7. The New Arrangement

Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.'s. Thanks, Goddess of pro-fic.

A/N: Wow, this is bad! This is one of my favorite fics and it's been since MAY that I updated. Not for lack of inspiration. Blame **WE (War's End)** my patience readers! I have great ideas for this fic and will definitely see it through. Just give me time! Hope you enjoy. THANK YOU for all your wonderful reviews and fantastic suggestions. I think all of you who sent me suggestions via e-mail have been responded to and while I can't promise to use all of your ideas, I can assure you that all have been considered and helped tremendously in the brainstorming process.

Loves to you!

J.T.

**)BW(**

Ginny awoke the morning after the previous evening's eventful practice with a headache and not a small degree of resentment toward her family. She sat blearily up and stared around her dorm, realizing that it was really too early on a Saturday to be awake. Two of her dorm mates were already sitting up and looking rather blankly around. Both were, however, noticeably avoiding Ginny's eye.

She snorted loudly, before perversely making a noisy and obvious show of getting up, stretching, and pulling her broomstick from under her bed. She proceeded to polish it for the next few minutes, humming The Weird Sisters under her breath. She was just giving a finishing _snip_ to her broom's tail when the door of the sixth year's dormitory flew opened.

"Ginny!" It was Pavarti who, without preamble, flung herself across the room and onto Ginny's bed. "Gin, you'll never believe what's happened!"

Ginny's dorm mates were staring at Pavarti in amazement, and no wonder. Her hair was bundled onto the top of her head in a mess of curls, she wore no makeup, and her pajama top was on backwards. Coupled with this, she was a seventh year. Seventh years _never_ came into their dorm, apart from Hermione, but that didn't count, as she was usually in there to tell Ginny off or rage about Ron.

"What?" Ginny demanded, knowing that the only reason Pavarti could possibly be in her dorm this early in the morning with no makeup was to discuss Quidditch. "Has Malfoy found a way to sneak Parkinson and Ananda and Bulstrode back onto the team?"

"Sadly, no," Pavarti said, looking momentarily regretful – which expression in connection with _Slytherins_ was causing the other sixth years to gape at Pavarti like fish out of water. The seventh year went on.

"But guess what's happened instead?"

"_What_?"

"Malfoy's ordering brooms and uniforms today _and_ we're choosing colors and a mascot!"

Ginny was torn between excitement and depression. On the one hand, they had all been discussing various mascots and colors for ages. On the other hand, Ginny wasn't officially on the team anymore, so what did she care?

No, that was selfish. She _did _care and she might still be on the team. Anyway, she still had some time to convince her family before she fell significantly behind or had to worry about missing a match.

"Excellent," she said to Pavarti, grinning widely. Turning deliberately to her gaping dorm mates, she said coolly, "Yes, can we help you?"

They scowled at her and ducked into the loo, muttering to each other and casting dark looks at her.

"Immature twits," Pavarti said loudly and without concern. "Come on, we'll get dressed and go to breakfast. Since we're not really a secret anymore, Malfoy may decide to call us together this morning in the library or something."

"Not that I don't enjoy annoying the pants off most of the school, but hanging around with Malfoy this early in the morning might be enough to upset my stomach," Ginny said, pulling a clean shirt and jeans out of her trunk.

"Come off it, he's been loads better since this team started," Pavarti insisted. "In fact," she added, with a conspiratorial air, "I've noticed him and Jools joking around quite a lot."

"You think so?" Ginny asked, without much interest. Although she'd had her suspicions about this herself, she didn't really care too much if they were. Her only feeling about it was that it was inappropriate for Malfoy to mess about romantically with his team.

"Oh, yeah," Pavarti went on. "Mione noticed it, too. She didn't like it, though. Looked quite put out, actually, and started ranting about propriety and so on." She rolled her eyes. "I thought she'd really loosened up over the past couple of months. Ah, well. See you at breakfast, then."

And she tripped out, humming a little.

Ginny just stared after her, shaking her head.

**)BW(**

Although it was very much a part of his nature to wreak as much havoc as possible, Draco decided not to make a scene today by holding the team meeting in a public place. He had two good reasons for his restraint – the first was that he didn't need do-gooders like Weasley and Potter and McMillan charging in every two seconds to make sure he wasn't actually converting his girls to the "dark side." The other was that their stratagems and practices were becoming fairly personalized and Draco didn't want the House teams borrowing methods that were fairly unique and created from a fresh perspective. The girls saw things that the boys Draco had worked with had never dreamed of before. They relied far more on teamwork, integrating Beater and Chaser strategy in wholly original ways. There was even some Beater/Seeker crossover that Millicent, Johnson, and McDonald had begun to develop from several techniques in their _Quidditch Through the Ages_ book.

So he told Jools to have them all meet him in the lockers, the one place he was sure none of the other team captains (or any other interfering prats) would dare to follow. And there he sat – alone – trying to come up with a "to do" list for himself and the captains so that their team might actually be ready for their first match.

Whenever _that_ might be.

Draco sighed. He supposed that if they kept up their current number of weekly practices, they would pull through, particularly if Dumbledore arranged for them to have regularly scheduled practices. The only fly in the potion was that he suddenly had several key players out of the game.

Weasley, the third link in his star Chaser set, for a start . . .

"Sulking, coach?"

Draco smirked.

"I've got better things to do, Boot," he retorted as the tall, lanky Ravenclaw came sauntering in and took a seat on the bench across from him.

"Such as?" she asked, leaning forward and trying to catch a glimpse of his as-yet itemless "to do" list.

"Such as trying to figure out how the hell we're going to be ready for our first match," Draco said, pulling the blank sheet of parchment away.

"We will be," Jools said, her voice suddenly cooling. She leaned back against a locker. "Enough of us will still be in the game."

"Will you?" he asked, with a pointed look.

Jools grinned.

"Took your advice and wrote home yesterday," she said.

"And . . .?" Draco prompted.

"Told my mum to shove it – I'm of age and I'm playing whether she likes it or not. Either she accepts it, or disowns me." Her expression indicated to Draco that there wasn't much fear of the latter.

Concealing a sigh of relief that he had one of his best players back, he gave her a smirk.

"Good – at least one of my girls has some nerve."

"What're you on about? We're all tough!" she said indignantly, nudging his foot with her own playfully.

"You're all right," he admitted, nudging back and letting his smirk slip into an almost-smile. Of all the girls on the team from other Houses, Jools was the one he could tolerate the easiest.

"All right at what?"

Draco and Jools turned to see Granger, McDonald, Patil Sr., and Ginny come in. All but Ginny were clad in practice gear. Ginny looked as though she was still in her jimjams and had only just crawled out of bed. She had a funny mixture of anticipation and sulkiness on her pretty face and Granger kept shooting her sympathetic looks.

Patil wasn't looking too well, either, Draco noted.

"You're a sorry lot this morning," was his greeting.

"You would be, too, if your twin who's five times smarter than you was out for your blood," Pavarti retorted.

"What happened?" Jools asked, sitting up and looked interested. Draco vaguely recalled that Pavarti and Patrice's other sister, Padma, was in Ravenclaw, too. He also remembered that Jools herself had a twin, Terry, who was Ravenclaw Quidditch captain.

"Oh, she was going on about House loyalty and she though I had more Gryffindor pride and bollocks like that," Pavarti snorted. She looked irritated, rather than upset. "Anyway, I told her that Mum and Dad were fine with me and Patrice playing and then she turned round and went off on Patrice."

"What happened then?" Granger asked.

Pavarti grinned darkly.

"Patrice sucked it up and told Padma to preach at someone who cared," she said, looking satisfied. "Padma's never been able to boss Patrice."

One by one the rest of the team drifted in. Draco noticed that his Slytherin housemates were looking less volatile and more morose than usual. He knew Jessica and Ananda were still sulking, but Millicent and Pansy were using their sullen expressions as a mask for the deep thought going on. They had major decisions to make and like the deliberate thinkers they were they considering every consequence one way or another.

When at last the entire team was assembled, Draco called, "All right, you dismal lot. Shut up so we can get down to business."

"Come on, girls, settle!" Jools called. Bones was quieting some of the younger girls toward the back.

"Right, then," Draco said. "Two items of business this morning before we get in a nice, long practice. First – Dumbledore wants our mascot and colors as soon as possible, so we're going to decide on them now. I could have just decided on them on my own, but certain people thought you lot should have a say, as well. Any ideas?" He gave Bones a pointed look. It had been she, after all, who had insisted that colors and mascot be a team consensus.

"Whatever our mascot is, it should reflect us as women," Granger spoke up immediately.

There was a general murmur of accent.

"And it should be a powerful creature," Patil Jr. put in. "Like a siren or a mermaid or something."

"It should be a dark creature," Millicent put in with a crooked smile. "I mean, this whole team thing is a bit wicked, isn't it?"

The girls sniggered, some more forcefully than others.

"What about a pixie?" Betina Johnson asked timidly.

"Naw, those aren't dangerous," McDonald said.

"Only the most annoying creatures alive," Granger murmured, and she and Patil Sr. exchanged reminiscent smiles.

"How about a Nundu?" Adrienne Abbot suggested.

"What's that?" Jessica asked, looking interested. Being only in second year, she had not yet had Care of Magical Creatures.

"It's probably the most dangerous magical creature in the world," Granger piped up. Pansy let out an audible, rude groan, but Granger ignored her and carried on. "It's an east African cat, a lot like a leopard but much larger. It moves silently and spreads virulent disease via its toxic breath."

"Now that we've had our magical creature lesson for today," Millicent broke in. Granger blushed and glared at her. "I think Abbot has a good idea."

"I like it, too," Ananda agreed, rather surprising Draco. Ananda rarely agreed with anyone, least of all a Ravenclaw.

"It's perfect," Adrienne's sister Hannah agreed. Adrienne beamed at her.

"And our motto can be 'Silent but Deadly,'" Ginny piped up sarcastically.

Everyone laughed.

"Fine," Draco called over the noise. It was bad that he was already irritated with Weasley and they hadn't been in the same room ten minutes. "All in favor of a Nundu for our mascot?"

Every hand went up.

"That was easy," Bones said, looking surprised.

"And what colors will we have?" Betina Johnson asked, looking excited.

"We can't have gold, red, silver, green, black, yellow, blue, or orange," Granger listed.

"Why?" Patrice Patil asked curiously.

"Because those colors already belong to the House teams," Jessica said, rolling her eyes. "Duh."

"Well, we still have purple and pink," Ginny pointed out.

"Oh, well spotted, Weasley," Pansy said with a snort. "The tackiest colors in the universe."

"We should use different shades, couldn't we?" Patil Sr. pointed out. "I mean, pale blue and gray, or something."

Draco bit down a snort. One thing the Patil sisters could always be counted on to know was fashion. The other girls were nodding and looking thoughtful.

"I suppose we could do gray and deep purple," Granger offered, for once looking completely out of her sphere. It was a satisfying thing for Draco to see.

"How wicked would this be?" Ginny spoke up suddenly. "What if we took the prominent colors from all four Houses?"

"Like, you mean, red, black, blue, and green?" Millicent asked, looking interested.

"Sure," Ginny nodded. "Not everyone would get it, but we _do_ represent to combination of all four Houses working together. Why not let our team colors represent that, in a way?" She glanced at Draco. "There's no rule saying we can't use more than two colors, is there?"

"Not that I know of," he said. Frowning, he added, "Do red, black, blue, and green really match, though?"

A moment of silent, then –

"Well, there's also gold, silver, yellow, and orange," Bones said doubtfully.

Another few minutes of discussion followed, before the colors were finally decided upon.

"So unless there's an objection," Draco said, consulting his parchment. "Our mascot is the Nundu and our colors are gold, silver, black, and blue." Everyone nodded, although as Ginny pointed out, "Those are pretty dramatic colors."

"So I'll take these to the headmaster this afternoon and with any luck, we'll have our gear and brooms in good time for the match."

"What're our uniforms going to look like?" Pavarti Patil asked, leaning forward.

"I want all dragonhide, but I'm not sure Dumbledore's up for that," Draco said, smirking when Granger's mouth fell open. "You'll look good and the uniforms will last for a while. Durable, you know."

"What sort of brooms are we getting?" Adrienne Abbot asked curiously.

"Dunno," Draco said, eyeing her speculatively. "I'd say you lot rate at least Nimbus 2000s." The excited chatter broke out again. No wonder, for any newer model Nimbus was better than your average, up-to-date broom from almost any other company. They had excellent balance, superb cushioning charms, and better than average acceleration capabilities.

"Shut it! I'm not through yet." He would go hoarse if he had to continue yelling over them all the bloody time.

"Come on, girls, steady on," Jools added loudly. "We've still got practice, you know."

"That's the other thing," Draco said once the noise level had dropped sufficiently. "I need to know – honest answers, now – which of you got letters from home banning you from playing on this team."

Slowly, hands began to rise into the air. Jessica, Ananda, Millicent, and Pansy were the first, looking mutinous and put out. Draco had already begun to jot down their names when Ginny and Jools' joined those of the Slytherins.

"So by my reckoning, we've still got enough girls to make up a team," Draco said, when all names had been officially recorded.

A murmur of accent was his answer.

"I know some of you're thinking of challenging your parents, and I'll remind you now: you are _only_ allowed to do this if you are of age." Draco glared around at them all, furious that he had to have this conversation. "And I'm not saying this lightly – make sure you are ready to face the consequences if you _do_ go against your parents' wishes. I know that things could turn nasty for some of you."

There was a moment of tense silence.

"If there's nothing else, we'd best get practicing," Bones piped up at last.

"Get in the air – and the rest of you head for the bleachers!" Draco barked. "You'll be watching their strategy and helping make adjustments."

The girls scattered, the captains giving directions and keeping them from dawdling. Ginny headed immediately for the door to the pitch, her face rather pinched. Granger made a move to follow, but Patil Sr. caught her arm and shook her head. Millicent, Pansy, Jessica, and Ananda followed Ginny, talking in low voices. Jools was changing next to her locker, looking thoroughly determined to play her best ever that day. Draco glanced around the lockers to make sure the others were moving quickly before jogging out after the exiles.

"Got another letter from home today," Pansy was saying.

"What, the first one wasn't enlightening enough?" Millicent snorted.

"What'd it say?" Ginny asked curiously, moving a bit closer.

"What else?" Pansy rolled her eyes. "My parents were – 'concerned', is the word they used – that I hadn't sent my broom home yet."

"Do it, Pans," Draco said sharply, drawing level with the girls. "Don't give them _any _reason to be hard on you."

"Why? They'll do whatever they like," Pansy snapped. "Anyway –" she looked away suddenly.

"What?" Jessica asked.

"Well, I might stick with the team, mightn't I?" she said loudly.

"Pans . . ." Millicent began.

"Good for you!" Ginny said.

The Slytherins stopped collectively and stared at her.

"What?" she demanded. "Why shouldn't she? She's brilliant and she loves it and if she keeps on she could play for England, even if our little team doesn't get off the ground!"

They continued to stare at her. Pansy looked cautious, as though expect Ginny to end with a "having said all that . . ."

"No offense, Weasley, but I don't think you get it," Millicent said, though to her credit she kept the condescension in her voice to a minimum.

"What? What don't I get?" Ginny snapped, rounding her angrily. "That some of your parents are in with You-Know-Who and that they can disown you and that you've all had abusive childhoods? Yeah – heard it already. So what? You're going keep letting your parents run your lives. You two," she indicated Pansy and Millicent, "are _adults_ now. Time to start choosing for yourselves. And this isn't really a huge decision compared to _some_ decisions you may have to make in the near future. Hell, you have the opportunity to play! What the hell are you standing here for?"

Draco felt unwillingly impressed with her speech. He could tell she had had a similar impression on Pansy. Ananda and Jessica looked shocked that she had dared to speak that way to or in the presents of two of the most feared students in the school. Millicent looked vaguely insulted, as though Ginny didn't have any idea what she was talking about.

She _was_ doing that, Draco had to admit, but at the same time she had made some very good points. This _was _a relatively small decision. He knew what she meant. The war would force all of them to decide between their blood and their ideals. What Ginny probably didn't understand was that the decision to play on this team was the first step along a dangerous path. It was the first defiance – once that defiance was expressed there was no turning back.

"For a twit, you make a lot of sense, Weasley," Pansy said slowly, eyeing the redhead carefully. She turned her gaze on Draco as the sounds of the rest of the team trickling onto the field began behind them.

Draco followed the girls into the stands and took a seat between Ginny and Ananda. His cousin was still watching Ginny, her expression unreadable.

Ginny herself looked rather smug.

"Mill's got a point, you know," he murmured to her. He watched Jools and Bones ordering the team into warm-ups. "You really don't understand what their decisions means to their futures."

"Maybe not," Ginny said. "But I know I'm right – you lot can keep letting someone else run your life or you can take your life and your grades and do like us normal, poor-as-dirt folk do and eke out a life in the regular world. Demeaning, perhaps, but definitely better than what you're doing now."

"And what's that?" Draco asked, feeling the beginnings of anger in his gut. She really had no idea –

"Choosing what's easy, instead of what's right," she said quietly. "Believe it or not, everyone has to make that choice, not just you Slytherins."

Draco was suddenly furious with her.

"You're far too innocent to be telling us how to deal with our families, Weasley," he snapped, keeping his voice down but injecting some venom into it.

"Oh, right," she scoffed. "I live with the perfect family and I have perfect little Gryffie friends and no one I know has ever had my family turn on me."

"One brother –" Draco began.

"And you think that's not a big deal?" she snarled, sitting up straighter and turning to look his straight in the eye. She took a deep breath. "Guess what my choice was, Malfoy. Just _guess_."

She turned away and flopped back into her chair, ignoring Jessica, Ananda, Pansy, and Millicent, who were all staring at her.

"So what?" he snapped, not caring if the others heard. "You had family to fall back on. Anyway, you've got brothers coming out your ears –"

Ginny's hand suddenly flew and Draco only just caught it before it hit his face. Draco turned in his seat to tell her off, but stopped dead at the look on her face. He saw rage, but he also saw a flicker of something else – something _very_ familiar.

"Here's the difference, Malfoy," she said, her voice shaking. "I, unlike you, have feelings. As far as I'm concerned, my brother _died_ the day he left our family. My brother disowned me. And every day that my family fights You-Know-Who, the odds increase that another one will die for real. I risk losing my family _every single day_. And I do it because it is _right_. But do you think it's easy? You think that just because my family _loves_ _me_ that that protects me from being hurt by them? As far as I can tell, I stand to lose a lot more than _you_ by making the right choice."

She jumped to her feet and stormed out of the stands, stomping down the stairs and slamming open the gate that led onto the pitch. At the gate she turned and glared up at him. By this time the entire team had stopped practice to watch her in amazement.

"By the way, Malfoy," she shouted up to him. "What did _your_ parents say about the team? When can we expect a new coach?"

She whirled away and jogged across the pitch, heading for the castle. Draco watched her leave, torn between shock and fury. At last, he noticed his team staring stupidly at him.

"Back to work!" he snarled at them. "We've got a match to prepare for!"

**)BW(**

Ginny actually snarled at a couple of passing first-years, her anger knowing no bounds as she slammed up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower. If she could just calm down for a moment . . . perhaps if she could stop seeing red . . .

The impending collision was painful and almost knocked Ginny back down the stairs.

"Bloody _hell_!" two voices said simultaneously. Two bodies tumbled backward and both reached out to each other to keep from falling. Ginny fumbled with the hand as it caught hers and pulled herself upright.

Harry stared back, looking as angry, if slightly more composed.

"Sorry, Gin," he muttered, moving as though to sidestep her. She tried to overt her face, but he did a double take a moment later and she knew she had blown it.

"Hey – you all right?" he asked, stepping back in front of her and looking carefully down at her face, which probably betrayed her current feelings of brutality and violence. His own expression rapidly changed from irate to concerned.

"Fine!" she snapped, moving to step around him.

"Whoa, there!" he said, gripping her shoulders and keeping her still. She almost bit the hand resting near her right collarbone, and restrained herself with difficulty.

"Harry, now is _really_ not the time," she ground out, trying to pull herself out of his grip.

"I'd say it is!" he said, sounding genuinely concerned, rather than annoyed by her ire. This did nothing to lessen it.

"Let go!" she said, yanking rather more insistently backward.

"Not until you at least settle down before you do yourself an injury!" he insisted doggedly. "My god, Gin, you nearly killed me – never mind almost knocking yourself back down the stairs."

"You helped!" she said, trembling with frustration.

"Settle _down_," he ordered, in the tone that she always thought of as his Hero of the Wizarding World voice. Once upon a time, it had awed her and made her swoon. A time later, it had inspired respect and loyalty. Now it made her want to hit him.

"I can be angry if I want to!" she hissed, settling for glowering at him since he wouldn't loosen his grip and he was much stronger than her.

"Sure – but you're not going to destroy half the castle in the process," he said with almost intimidating firmness. "Come on now, Gin – you know how much that helped _me_ two years ago."

Ginny would never, ever forget her fourth year, a majority of which Harry had spent in a towering fury, both at Hogwarts and 12 Grimmauld Place. She remembered his frequent tantrums, audible even over the screeching of Mrs. Black. She remembered the sulking and the sullen expression he had worn up until their tryst to the Ministry. After that he had been quiet and withdrawn; weary, rather than furious; rueful, rather than vengeful.

She never would have expected the Harry from that year to be telling _her_ to settle down.

Without realizing it, she had begun to draw in deep breaths, consciously unclasping her hands. He was absolutely right – she had every right to be angry, but it was wrong to act in anger. Vaguely, she tried to remember what had made her get so upset. It was a bit of a surprise when she realized that she had forgotten in the heat of her fury. She thought for a moment and although blaming Draco was her first impulse, she also realized that it was probably due in some measure to her family and her frustration at being banned from doing something that she so desperately wanted to do.

"That's better," Harry said a few moments later, when her spine had loosened and her breath slowed. His hands dropped and he stuffed them into his pockets. "So – want to talk about it?"

"No – yes – I dunno," she muttered, staring wearily over his right shoulder and feeling her rage simmering. "I'd really like to hit something."

Harry smiled slightly.

"I know that feeling," he said, with a self-deprecating smile. "Another time, then?"

She looked up and him and thought for a moment.

_He knows your family – he'll understand_, she thought.

_But the whole idea of you being trained by Malfoy_ . . . another part of her brain piped up. _You don't want to go rubbing around, do you?_

"This about Quidditch with Malfoy?" the all-too-perceptive Harry asked when she didn't immediately respond.

"Yeah," she said, with a sigh, sinking down to sit on the stairs. He joined her silently, clearly waiting for her to elaborate.

"It's only – " she paused, but it came tumbling out anyway. "My parents won't let me play on the team."

"Oh," he said. She noticed that he didn't sound terribly surprised and wasn't looking at her.

"I got the letter yesterday," she said carefully, watching his expression.

"Huh," he said.

"Harry – you didn't know they were going to send a letter, did you?" she asked suspiciously. If he had had _anything_ to do with this . . .

His head whipped around and he stared at her in surprise.

"No!" he said earnestly. "I – well, Ron had mentioned something to me about how your parents weren't too thrilled about you playing for Gryffindor a couple of years ago, but – no, Gin, honestly! I didn't know anything about it."

"Okay," she said, feeling herself relax a bit. She had been worried that he might have written to her parents and told them, with emphasis on how Malfoy was coaching and it wasn't safe. The expression on his face convinced her that he hadn't done, or even considered, any such thing. She had to remember that he wasn't one of her mindlessly overprotective brothers.

"Sorry for jumping on you like that," she said at length. "It's just – well, all of my brothers sent me letters, too, telling me not to get mixed up with Malfoy and that Quidditch was too dangerous, especially playing with Slytherins and . . . well, Ron didn't need to send me a letter, but now he's hacked off at me for losing my temper at him last night . . . anyway, I didn't think you'd've told my parents anything, but . . ."

"Gin," Harry said, sounding a bit hurt. "I may not trust Malfoy, but I trust you. If this is something you want to do and you think Malfoy's in it for good, I'd never try to stop you. It's not my right."

Ginny was touched. It was big of him to support her, even when it meant them playing against each other and her being, more or less, on the side of his enemy. She knew how deeply he loathed Draco and she didn't blame him. Draco was a beast.

"Thanks," was all she said. Impulsively, she leaned over and gave him a hug. He was clearly surprised, but he returned it readily.

"Nothing to thank me for – I'm your friend," he told her firmly.

"Yeah, but I'm playing against Gryffindor and being trained by Malfoy – assuming I can somehow convince my parents to let me play, anyway," she pointed out, hanging onto him and praying he wouldn't suddenly come to his senses and tell her to resign immediately.

"And I don't like it," he said honestly. "But I've seen you when you play Quidditch, Gin. You're fantastic and you deserve more than the Gryffindor team was giving you. I'm sure your parents will – well, they're reasonable and they want what's best for you. Anyway, for my part, making war on Slytherins is sort of counterproductive these days, so I'm trying to tone it down a bit."

"Good for you," she said sincerely, with a squeeze as she pulled back. She paused, but decided to ask anyway. After all, he had been very nice to her a minute ago. "So . . . I noticed _you_ weren't exactly pleased about something when we ran into each other. What's up?"

His face, open and earnest a moment ago, adopted a closed expression.

"Ah, it's nothing," he said quietly, looking down at his hands.

"Sure?" Ginny asked, resting a hand on his arm.

He shrugged.

"Let's just say that making war on Slytherins _really_ hasn't been productive lately," he said cryptically. He glanced sideways at her. "Another time, Gin."

"Sure," she said, feeling a bit concerned, but knowing that with Harry, time and patience were the best antidotes for his melancholy. Even if he didn't talk to her, he would tell Ron or Hermione in the end. That was what was important.

"Well," he said at last, smiling faintly and getting to his feet. "I was on my way to the library to get some DADA stuff done. See you later?"

"Definitely," Ginny said, accepting his hand and pulling herself to her feet. She hesitated, and then gave him another hug. "Sometimes," she told him with feeling, "you're better than all my brothers combined. Stupid prats."

Harry chuckled, gave her a squeeze, and let his arms drop.

"It's because I'm smart enough to be terrified of you when you fly into a temper," he teased.

"See you later, Harry," she called, as he descended the steps.

"Bye, Gin."

Feeling a bit better, smiled a bit to herself and made to head for Gryffindor Tower again.

"Fraternizing with the enemy?"

Ginny paused, turned slowly.

"Zabini," she said carefully.

"Weasley," he acknowledged, stepping off a staircase that descended from the fourth floor and positioning himself directly in front of her intended staircase.

"What do you want?" she demanded, her hands flying to her hips. The good bit was that he wasn't Draco (whose head she wanted to dislocate from his body). The bad bit was that he was a Slytherin with mannerisms very similar to Draco's. Her temple, while temporarily soothed, was still humming expectantly and she wasn't sure what kind of provocation might set it off again.

"Fight with Malfoy?" he asked casually, leaning against a banister and folding his arms.

"None of your business," she retorted. "What do you _want_?"

"What makes you think I _want _anything?" he asked. He was teasing and she wasn't amused.

"Either tell me or get out of my way," she said, making an effort to control the volume of her voice.

"Fine," he said, pushing off the banister and coming to stand directly in front of her. "I have a proposition for you."

"Do you?" she said cautiously. Any proposition from a Slytherin would have strings attached. Best not to agree with anything until she knew _exactly_ what she was getting herself into.

Blaise smiled knowingly. Ginny realized that it was only because of that smile that she was still standing here. Blaise Zabini was the only Slytherin she had ever met who smiled genuinely and on a regular basis. It made him seem a bit more sincere than the rest of them. Anyway, he had done a lot for the team. Clearly, he was (at least partially) on her side.

_Although you have no idea_ why _he pushed so hard to get the team organized_, a quiet voice warned in the back of her mind.

"I do," Blaise answered her question. He paused tactfully. "I understand that you are . . . temporarily unable to practice with the team."

Ginny stiffened and didn't answer.

"Ah," Blaise said with a nod. Ginny suddenly realized that he had only been guessing and wanted to hit herself for giving him his answer so easily. "I assume that's what the fight with Draco was about."

"How did you . . . were you eavesdropping on Harry and I?" she demanded.

He shrugged.

"Well, you were making a lot of noise and I was looking for you anyway," he told her. "I overheard enough."

"Great," she muttered.

"Look, don't worry about it," he said impatiently. "I have an . . . opportunity to offer you."

"What sort of opportunity?"

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not so bad at Quidditch myself," he said, his words careful and calculating. Typical Slytherin! He went on. "In fact, I practice on my own – just for fun, mind – when there aren't any team practices going on."

Ginny's eyebrows shot up. Blaise shrugged.

"It's good exercise," he reminded her. "I wouldn't look as good as I do if I didn't practice a bit every day."

"Modest, too," Ginny murmured, unable to keep a small smile off her face.

"Why bother? We both know it's true. Anyway, I know that the deal is that you can't practice, compete, or in any way participate in team-related activities – right?"

"Right – so?"

"So – practice with me to keep up until someone knocks some sense into your parents," he said, as though that were the obvious solution.

"Wh – _what_?" Ginny said, staring at him in amazement. Of all the suggestions she had been expecting, that had definitely been the last.

"What, are you deaf?" he said, looking annoyed. "You need to practice consistently if you want to be able to keep up with the team. If you practice with me, you're not technically practicing with the team at all. What we do during breaks and after classes is our business."

Ginny had the sudden insane urge to laugh at the potential innuendo in his words. She meant to ask him if he realized that he had just propositioned her, but what came out of her mouth instead was, "What's in it for you?"

"Not one to mince words, are you, Weasley?" he said with an approving nod. "Good – you're learning to deal with Slytherins. Might help you deal with Draco someday without flying into a mindless fury."

She opened her mouth indignantly, but he cut her off.

"Don't bother – I've heard how you two battle it out every time you're within earshot of each other," he said, waving a dismissive hand.

"How – forget it, I don't want to know how you're so well informed," she said with a sigh. "But I _do_ still want to know what's in it for you."

He stared down at her thoughtfully, clearly formulating his response carefully.

"I need your help," he told her at length. When he didn't elaborate at all, Ginny cross her arms.

"With what?" she asked skeptically.

"A girl, actually," he said bluntly.

It wasn't the answer she had been expecting – he was full of surprises.

"Who?" was the obvious question.

"I'd prefer to keep that to myself for now," he said simply. "I'll have to tell you eventually, of course, but I'd rather keep the shame to myself for the time being."

"Well – how am I supposed to help, then?" she demanded.

"Simple – you're obviously very familiar with the female psyche, so you're going to help me sort it out," he told her.

"Um –" She thought about it for a moment, but couldn't really see that she had anything to lose in the arrangement. "Okay, sure – I'll try."

His face spit into another of his devastating, thoroughly sincere, and almost-manic grins.

"You're a doll, Weasley," he said, running a hand through his hair. Removing said hand from his head, he glanced at his wristwatch. "Christ, I'm late for detention."

"Why would that bother you?" she wanted to know.

"One is not late for detention with Snape unless one has a death wish," he told her, stepping around her and onto the staircase below.

"Unless one is a Slytherin," she said pointedly.

"Are you kidding? The only difference is that instead of giving me detention for life the way he would for you Gryffs, he'll find the worst possible job he can think of and make me do it for four times the length of time the detention was supposed to last originally."

"Right," Ginny murmured, her face splitting into another small smile. "So – when do we start?"

"Today, if you want," he said. "I practice right after dinner tonight. No one else has booked the pitch then."

"Meet you at seven?"

"Wouldn't miss it." He gave her a decidedly cocky smile before turning and tramping back down the stairs.

She watched him go and then quickly turned and jogged up the steps toward the seventh floor. She had had quite enough encounters with boys for one day.

**)BW(**

TBC . . . sorry, would have added more D/G goodness, but I wanted my poor readers to FINALLY have a new chapter of this. Lucky for you guys this chapter has been almost done for ages and I needed a quick break from writing **WE**.

Loves!


	8. The First Match

Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.R.'s. Sincerest thanks to the Goddess of pro-fic . . .

A/N: I know, I know, the wait has been WAY long, although I resent being told that it was nearly a year. Try four and a half months! Anyway, as I may have mentioned a thousand times or so, I am a full time uni student who is _majoring in Creative Writing_, and thus I've had to devote my time to a LOT of original stuff. I was able to finish this chapter because of a brief block of free time that miraculously blessed me for two days, but I'll warn you right now to **savor this chapter** because I have NO idea when the next will be out. I will try to keep my **bio**on updated with news and story progress so **don't email me if you want to know about your favorite story – check my bio on my author page**, which should tell you everything you need to know. Incidentally, if you'd like to e-mail your _thoughts_ about a story, feel FREE!

For any of you interested, I am working toward transferring my work to because quite frankly, I am far more impressed with them and also, they're dedicated to HP, so they are clearly God. Ahem. Not sure when this will happen, but hopefully, soon.

On a final note, all future "Bend It" posts will take second place, priority-wise, so that **Potter vs. Malfoy** may be completed. Yes, I do indeed spend every spare moment and then some developing the epilogue. It is LONG and getting LONGER, folks. You won't be disappointed on that head.

A final note of thanks to my dear fiend (yes, FIEND) **Nikki** for bugging me mercilessly and never DREAMING of breaking into my computer to read halfway completed chapters of mine, because you are moral, aren't you, **Nikki**, and would NEVER, EVER think of doing something like that to me, WOULD YOU? To **my other readers**, you owe **Nikki** big time for harassing me and begging me to update BILW. Without her here in the flesh, representing your warranted impatience, you can bet that this chapter would still only be halfway done (as it was for most of this and last quarter).

A quick apology for bad editing and potential plot holes. I tried very hard to be careful, but this story is such a jumble at this point that I can't possibly be on top of it all. I am going to sit down and do a plot map (probably during class when I SHOULD be paying attention, but never mind), but until then, please excuse plot holes. Again, hopefully won't destroy the formatting of this fic and hopefully I'll have done a decent editing job flying solo.

Having written a needlessly long A/N, I shall now leave you to your reading, with many, _many_ thanks to all who read and reviewed, and continued to review even though updates have been sporadic. I do read EVERY review, and am terrified by some of them, though generally they are quite gratifying.

**)BW(**

Draco was in a foul mood as he sat hunched in the Slytherin common room filling out order forms that evening. He raked his quill over the parchment, taking no pleasure in any of it, even the bit where he got to place the order for ten Firebolts. On the contrary, he scrawled the number almost bitterly.

Ten Firebolts – not fourteen.

Dumbledore had only given him permission to order equipment for the girls who were on the team for good, parental permission or otherwise.

Draco's scowl deepened. He knew he should be grateful that Pansy, at least, was remaining, but he couldn't shake his – he winced, but there was no denying it – his _disappointment_ about Gin – Weasley.

His disappointment, or his anger.

The horrid little twat! She had _no _idea what Pansy and Millicent were going through – in Pansy's case, what she had yet to face – with their families. Simply the choice to remain on the team was as good as a defection to Dumbledore's side if and when the war began. Pansy had forsaken any protection her family might have been able to offer her when Voldemort struck at last.

Draco glanced across the common room at the girl, who was sitting with Marissa Avery and Millicent. Draco noticed that the rest of Pansy's roommates were giving Millicent and herself plenty of space.

As he, too, was getting.

Draco smirked. Slytherins were masters of subtly, but when one lived in and _was_ Slytherin, the coy was all but lost. Draco got the message, as Pansy and Millicent undoubtedly did – if they kept up this high jinx with girls from other houses, they would find no welcome within their own. No one would want to be caught being friendly with a _defector_, even if this particular defection didn't rank very high in importance. Draco knew that as his Housemates saw it, one little slip meant that it was downhill from there.

Well, let them slink around. It wasn't stopping him seeing this team through. He would do it and make sure that You-Know-Who (or his father) didn't blast him. And if Pansy and Millicent stuck with him, he would do everything in his power to protect them.

_It isn't as though we even have to choose sides in this sodding war_, he thought, repeating his mantra for the hundredth time. _Escape to France or Greece and let Potter and his do-gooders do the job._

And would Ginevra Weasley be one of those do-gooders? he wondered for the hundred-and-first time.

He shook the thoughts away. They were premature. At the moment, getting the team together was his top priority. And as long as he wasn't interrupted by anyone, he might get it all done tonight.

Blaise came through the common room entrance, hair windswept and eyes bright. He spotted Draco and, ignoring the blonde's glower, came sauntering across the common room and threw himself into a high-backed chair across from him.

_Well, that's torn it_, Draco thought sourly.

Either Blaise was an unobservant prat, or he chose to ignore the wide birth the rest of the Slytherins were giving Draco, Pansy, and Millicent, because he wouldn't leave any of them alone. He was always asking about practice, matches, the team itself, and anything else he could think of. As a result, his housemates were watching him warily, unable to tell if he was another traitor or not. He wasn't involved with the team in any way, and he still spent the bulk of his time maintaining his hard-earned place in the top ranks of the Slytherins, but he also socialized with the traitors, so no one really knew what to make of him.

_I certainly don't_, Draco though irritably.

"Ordering equipment?" Blaise asked, leaning forward to have a look at the order forms strewn across the table.

Draco snatched them up.

"Go away, Zabini," he muttered.

"Make me, Malfoy," the brunette retorted coolly. "This is my common room, too. Not all of us are overpowered with fear when you're in a strop."

"Not in a strop," Draco mumbled, resignedly laying the order forms back down on the table and returning his attention to them.

"Only ten, eh?" Blaise murmured, studying the _Witch Broomstick_ order form thoughtfully. "I would have thought Mill – "

"Not now, Blaise," Draco said sharply.

Blaise pursed his lips, a sure sign that he was putting his able mind to work sorting out some puzzle.

"Disappointing, is all," he said at length, with a shrug. "She and Pans have always done things together."

"Where did you disappear to after dinner?" Draco demanded, determined to change the subject.

"Noticed, did you?" Blaise said in mock-surprise.

"Big secret?" Draco prodded in a bored tone.

"Not at all," Blaise said. "Just out practicing with Ginny."

_Just out practicing . . . with . . . Ginny_. The words ground to a halt in Draco's brain.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded. "She's not allowed to practice."

"Sure she is," Blaise said with a placid smile. "Just not with the team."

Draco stared at him, unable to think of anything suitably offensive to say.

"Are you going to sit there sulking at me for ages or ask me what the hell I think I'm doing?" Blaise said coolly, snatching _Witch Broomstick_ off the table and flipping idly through it.

"I don't give a dragon's arse what you're doing," Draco assured him, trying to return his attention to broomsticks, which was made difficult by the angry curiosity nagging at the back of his mind and the fact that Blaise had stolen the order form.

"You mind?" Draco snapped, holding out his hand for the magazine.

"Not at all," Blaise assured him, tossing it carelessly onto the table and getting to his feet. "I'm off to bed. I'm dead beat. Gin's got quite the Quaffle arm."

_Git, git, git!_ sang Draco's brain as his friend swaggered off down to the boys' dormitories with an unforgivable gleam in his eye.

Draco's scowl deepened as he forced his mind back to the order forms. Finishing with brooms, be began on uniforms, trying very hard not to think about Blaise and Ginny. What did he care? Ginny wasn't really his greatest player – he still had Granger and Pansy, and he was quite sure that with the right encouragement, Patrice Patil would be a fine third Chaser. And as far as other positions were concerned, he had two unbeatable Keepers and three fantastic Beaters – in fact, _four_ fantastic beaters, if Millicent signed on for good.

"Draco."

He couldn't help a small smile. Speak of the devil.

"Mill."

"Can we talk?"

"We are talking."

"Oooh, someone's in a right snit tonight," Pansy put in, seating herself on one side of Draco while Millicent took the other.

"Sod off, Parkinson," he advised coolly. "Mill and I are talking."

"About the team . . ." Millicent began carefully, eyeing first the spread of order forms across the table and then Draco's somewhat sour expression. He saw her swallow hard.

"Well?"

Millicent took a deep breath, squared her broad shoulder, and then forewent all pretense and hunched forward again, looking miserable. Pansy reached around Draco and gave Millicent's shoulder a nudge.

"Go on, Millie," she urged, her own expression unreadable.

"I'mnotjoiningteam," Millicent mumbled.

Draco tried very hard not to poke her in the eye.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that," he said slowly.

"I'm not joining your bloody team!" Millicent hollered, before climbing hastily to her feet and stalking away down the girls' dorm staircase. Draco hadn't missed the quiver of her full lip or the homicidal glint in her eye that had sent most of the Slytherins who happened to be in her path scattering to safer locales.

"I think that went rather well," Pansy commented wearily, leaning back into the corner of the couch and staring into the fire. "She's been working up to it all day."

"Has she?" Draco said, trying not to sound dejected – after all, he knew that he should have expected it. "I suppose that her parents made her mail back her broomstick and all? Not that it would matter, since you're all getting new brooms anyway."

"Bit worse than that, actually," Pansy said in the same constrained tone. "They've threatened to remove her from Hogwarts."

"Fuck," Draco commented articulately. "Is it a threat or a settled thing?"

"Well," Pansy said rather heavily. "I helped her write a letter today, making a big deal out of her midterm grades and the fact that she's leaving the team." Pansy dropped her voice and leaned forward, her eyes suddenly too bright. "Jesus, Draco, she can't go home! None of us – " she broke of, brushing furiously at her eyes. "Well, some of us _can't_. Thank Merlin for small favors."

"And Mill doesn't want to do what you did?" Draco asked.

"My parents can ask me to stop until they turn blue and if I choose to continue, I can because I'm of age," Pansy told him, sinking away from him and into a corner of the couch. "_But_ – well, we went and asked Dumbledore about it and he says that a removal from school is different. If they remove her from school, she has _no_ choice, because she's still dependent on them, living-wise."

"And you?" Draco demanded harshly. "Have your parents . . ." The last thing they needed was for Pansy to be removed from school. Draco couldn't protect her if she wasn't with him.

"No," Pansy said with a harsh bark of mirthless laughter. "Can't imagine why. At least they won't be complaining about my behavior to any of their friends. Don't want them to know how I'm behaving until it's unavoidable. Millie's parents are saying that she's suffering from depression and it's affecting her grades and they may home school her." Pansy snorted. "Yeah, right. Mrs. Bulstrode has the mental capacity of a slug." She ducked her head toward the fire. She looked very small, Draco realized. Very vulnerable. It was a misleading conception, but he felt the familiar rush of protectiveness.

"Fine – Mill's out," Draco said after a long pause, trying to return to his businesslike tone. Mostly, it worked. At any rate, it seemed to fool Pansy, who perked up. She always came out best when Draco took control. "Now I have to change all these bloody order forms."

"Nah – could always use an extra uniform," Pansy said, snatching his quill away. "Anyway, Mill and Weasley are built the same. If one of them is allowed back on the team – well, one of them's bound to work something out. They're smart."

"Could have fooled me – ow! Watch it, Parkinson! That'll be fifty laps tomorrow!"

"Oh, but you wouldn't want to tire your favorite Chaser, would you?" she chided mockingly, knowing perfectly well that he was cornered – he would have to admit that Pansy was his favorite. Otherwise, that left Granger, and he would never hear the end of it if he were caught dead commending her.

In light of this, Draco kept his mouth shut and finished the last of the order forms. He went ahead and ordered an extra, deciding that he would tell Dumbledore that he hadn't known about Millicent until it was too late. Signing his name with a flourish, he dusted all of the parchment and folded it carefully inside the catalogue.

"Big day coming up," Pansy said into the silence that had momentarily descended.

"Is it?" Draco hedged, although he, too, was rather glad of a distraction from Millicent.

"I mean, what with the first match and all . . ."

"Yes, there's that."

"A match, eh?"

Draco and Pansy glance up as Gus Godkin's voice drifted toward them from across the common room. The Slytherin team captain was eying the pair of them with a mixture of contempt and wariness in his dark eyes.

"Don't fret, Godkin," Pansy said serenely, inching almost imperceptibly in Draco's direction. "We're not playing Slytherin."

"I'm well aware, Parkinson," Godkin said, with a nasty leer. "My team gets their week off training before we play you."

Draco felt the barb, lacking in cleverness as it was, and only just kept his temper.

"Shame – as it was, my girls weren't expecting much of a challenge from you lot."

Perhaps the comment would have gone ignored if Draco hadn't deliberately tagged that "you lot" onto the end. It implied a split – implied that Draco's team, including Draco and any Slytherin involved in it, weren't about to have anything to do with Slytherin, where Quidditch was concerned.

"The hell happened to you, Malfoy?" Godkin spat, pushing off the wall beside the girls' dormitory entrance, where he and Janna Malone had been chatting moments before.

"Before or after he decided that you prats weren't worth two knuts rubbed together?" Pansy demanded, jumping to her feet to face Godkin, who was a good deal taller than she.

"Pans," Draco said, getting up quickly and catching her wrist. She turned to looked at him mutinously, as though daring him to stop her physically attacking Godkin. Draco gave her a little shake. "Pull it together, yeah? I'd love to see Godkin get it, but we've got a match to keep you in splendid shape for."

Pansy eyed him carefully for a long moment. Then she leaned forward and pressed her lips lightly against his. Draco didn't return the kiss, but pulled her briefly against him. She pulled back after a short moment and he let her go. She turned away from him and pushed roughly passed Godkin, who had by that time drawn level with her and Draco. She hopped briskly down the stairs to the girls' dorms, ignoring Janna's nasty look in passing.

"Ah, I see how this works," Godkin said silkily. Draco caught the flash of emotion in his eyes as they turned from Pansy's retreating back to Draco. "How many of them did you have to shag, Malfoy?"

"Actually, I let the broom do the work," Draco said conversationally, his tone deliberately insinuating. "I just sit back and watch. Amazing what Granger can do with her hands when she puts her mind to it."

"The Mudblood," Godkin spat. "I can't fucking believe you."

"Coming from a Halfblood, I'd call that a bit rich," Draco shot back calmly. He didn't want to defend Granger, but she _was_ one of his team members and any insult to her was injury to the team.

"And how is Parkinson with _her_ hands?" Godkin went on viciously. "I expect between you and Zabini she's got her work cut out for her."

It was a comment designed to enrage Draco, who was usually very protective of Pansy. This time, the knowledge of Godkin's unfounded jealousy over Draco's relationship with her – however platonic it really was – kept his temper firmly in check.

"Oh, no," he said, a sardonic smile on his lips. "She saves those talented hands for the Quaffle now." He paused, then wickedly added, "And Granger, on occasion."

With a sweep of his wand, his order forms, quill, and ink flew into his arms, where they neatly arranged themselves before becoming motionless. He stepped around Godkin and strode purposefully toward the boys' staircase. He wasn't worried about Godkin hexing him from behind, although he had seen the idiot's wand near his fingers. Very few people, even Gryffindors, were brave enough to attack Draco any further than verbal abuse might take them.

Draco couldn't help feeling, however, that taunting might be the least of their worries. It was clear that Slytherin's reaction would be dangerous, but what of the other houses? Draco supposed that he would have to count on Granger, Bones, and Jools to report anything untoward to him, but he didn't relish relying on their intelligence to gauge the hostility of other students.

Perhaps he would have to do some of his own reconnaissance.

**)BW(**

Ginny awoke the morning of the team's first match with a mixture of anxiety and depression churning in her stomach. On the one hand, the team really had to prove themselves today in order for at least some portion of the school to show them any sort of support. On the other hand, she, Ginny, wasn't likely to be able to add anything to their odds.

And so, she sulked her way into jeans, a Puddlemere tee-shirt commandeered from Ron's wardrobe the previous summer, and sneakers, and slumped down to the common room.

She was surprised to see Parvati and Natalie sitting by Hermione and intermittently handing her tissue.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked quickly, making her way over to them as every imaginable disaster occurred to her. After all, for Hermione to cry _and_ let people comfort her was somewhat unusual. "Is the match still on?"

Hermione looked up at her and gave a watery smile. "Oh, yes. Match's still on."

"What's wrong, then?"

"She and Ron had another row this morning," Parvati told her.

"Already?" Ginny couldn't help smiling slightly. "It's hardly half-seven, Mione."

"It wasn't – it wasn't pretty," Natalie said haltingly, biting her lip. "What with he and Harry still not on speaking terms with her and all."

"What happened this time, Mione?" Ginny asked, her smile shrinking as she seated herself on the table across from Hermione. Harry and Ron hadn't let up at all since the night the news of the team had broken. Harry had been quite nice to Ginny about the whole thing, and Ginny expected that his petty behavior toward Hermione had more to do with being Ron's best mate than any actual ill will. Fat lot of good that did Hermione, but in Harry's defense, Ron would have done the same for him.

Hermione drew a hiccupping breath, and shook her head with an expression of self-reproach that Ginny had seen more than once.

"I'm sorry, I'm being st-stupid," she murmured, wiping quickly at her eyes.

"Hermione? Being stupid? What _is_ the world coming to?" Ginny said, throwing up her hands and giving her friend a shocked look.

Hermione chuckled softly.

"No, go on – I'm fine," she said. Ginny knew her friend hated attention almost as much as Harry did.

"You're not going anywhere until you say what happened," she said gently, squeezing her friend's knee. "Come on – you don't normally get upset like this over Ron. And he's been like this for a while now. Git."

"Come on, Nat, let's go eat something," Parvati said abruptly, giving Hermione's hunched shoulders a pat and looking pointedly at Natalie.

"I don't think I can eat anything," Natalie murmured, though she took the hint. "Bye, Mione."

"Bye – thanks," Hermione called after them. Turning back to Ginny, whose eyes she didn't quite meet, she said, "I never gave Parvati enough credit."

"I doubt most people do," Ginny said, smiling when she thought of how Parvati and Hermione had been spending so much time together since Lavender and Ron's respective desertions. "Now, stop stalling."

Hermione took a deep breath and bit her lip. She blinked and Ginny worried that she was going to start crying again.

"Hey," she said gently. "I'm sorry. If you don't want to tell me . . ."

"No, _I'm_ sorry," Hermione jumped in hastily, squeezing Ginny's hand. "It _was _just a stupid row, and I should know better than to let Ron bait me. Only –"

"Only . . .?" Ginny prompted.

"Only it's like he likes Quidditch more than he likes _me_!" Hermione cried, sinking back against the cushions in a defeated attitude. "I'm sure that's what's wrong with Harry. He's probably only angry because Quidditch is sort of his thing. But _Ron_ – well, he's no bloody genius, that's for sure!"

"Is it because you're playing Gryffindor today that Ron was getting on your case?" Ginny asked, with a sinking feeling. While her brother and Harry had basically stuck to the silent treatment and abandonment in Potions, it was probably harder for Hermione to deal with than a shouting match. The last time Harry and Ron had behaved like this, Hermione had told Ginny, was in third year. Ginny snorted – you'd think they'd have matured a bit since then.

"_We_," Hermione corrected her, sitting up quickly and getting hold of Ginny's hand again. "_We're_ playing. You're still on – well, you're not officially _off_ the team. Your family will come round."

"Doubtful," Ginny muttered, turning her face away and trying to sound more angry and less disappointed than she felt. "I mean, they're all as stubborn as Ron, Mione. And –" Ginny smiled ruefully at her friend – "and _you_ know how stubborn that is."

"As stubborn as Ron, not as foolish," Hermione said firmly. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "Listen to me, going on about a little disagreement when you – well, I'm so sorry, Gin."

Ginny didn't especially want pity, she wanted back on the team.

"Never mind," she said. "I still get locker room privileges, yeah?"

"Of course."

"Then let's go to breakfast before too many other people show up and then go stake out the lockers," Ginny said briskly, pulling Hermione up. "Never mind Ron, Mione. He'll get over it, the twit."

The portrait swung open.

Speak of the devil.

Hermione turned deliberately away and made for the girls' dormitories.

"Oh, look who it is, Harry – the traitor," Ron said loudly.

Hermione stopped, her spine stiff.

"Aren't we creative today," Ginny jibed loudly, stepping between the staircase and her brother. "It's all getting a bit old now, isn't it? Just because you're jealous that Hermione's destined for Quidditch glory – the quick study," she added, smiling slightly.

"Shut your gob, Gin," he snapped, not even looking at her.

"Oh, that's nice," Ginny snapped, stomping passed him and Harry, who was looking uncomfortable. "I'll be at breakfast, if you want to join me later, Mione," she called. She wasn't abandoning, exactly. Hermione could disappear into the girls' dorms without Ron following. Without looking at him or Harry, she shoved the portrait hole open.

"Whoa, Weasley! Watch it."

Ginny peered through the entry.

"Malfoy?"

"That's _coach_ to you," he said sharply, pushing passed her into the Gryffindor common room. "Where's my Chaser?"

Ginny gaped at him. Was he really standing in the middle of the Gryffindor common room, demanding to see Hermione? After their fight, Ginny hadn't had any desire to speak to him, and he hadn't made any effort to speak to her unless absolutely necessary. She still attended practice, but sat a ways away from him. Now here he was, looking nobly affronted that she had nearly broken his nose with the portrait hole but not looking angry about anything else.

"Malfoy!" Ron bellowed, rounding on him. "Get the hell _out_!"

"Not without my Chaser," he said firmly, pushing passed Harry, who was looking too shocked to do anything. "Come along, Granger."

He strode to the staircase and took Hermione, who was staring at him in surprise and something mildly akin to relief, by the hand.

"McDonald told me you were skulking around up here. You're starting us out today," Draco told her, his voice chiding. "You need to eat and go warm up with Patil and Pans. None of this sulking in your ivory tower rubbish."

Hermione failed to stifle a sniffle, and bit her lip, clearly trying not to cry.

"Oh, come on," Draco said, and to Ginny's astonishment, he put an arm round Hermione's shoulders and led her back to the portrait hole. "Don't be scared. You were fine in practice yesterday and the other team is primarily made up of useless twats who'll be more interested in your breasts than in the Quaffle. You'll be just fine."

Hermione gave another watery laugh and leaned into his shoulder briefly as the passed Ron and Harry, who were still too surprised to say anything. "Shut up, coach. I'm not scared," she said.

"Sure you are," he replied, as though there could be no argument. "Come along, Gin, I want you shouting obscenities at Granger so she gets angry enough to score a goal today. Since I've lost by best shooter," he added loudly and pointedly in Ron's direction, "because some bastards can't stand that their sister might be better at Quidditch than they are –"

Ron's "bloody Malfoy, get your hands off my sister and – other people!" was lost as the portrait hole swung shut. Draco instantly dropped his arm from around Hermione and let go of Ginny.

"You did that just to tick them off, didn't you?" Hermione said, sounding both annoyed and reluctantly amused.

"Too right," Draco said briskly. "Angrier they are, the less likely they are to win."

"Betina's no match for Harry," Ginny murmured grimly.

"Don't you dare tell her that!" Draco snapped, wheeling right around to glare at her. She could feel some of the heat of their former argument behind his look and felt her own dander rise. Her fists clenched.

"Don't be thick," she snapped back, crossing her arms. "I want us to win. I'm being realistic."

"You're being bitter – stop it," he ordered harshly, poking her hard in the collarbone.

Her eyes widened furiously and she poked him back.

"Don't touch me, Mal-ferret!" she snarled.

"When you get back on the team, you're doing so many laps you won't be able to walk straight for a week," he snarled back.

Something about the way he said it – his tone half furious, half desperate – made Ginny pause. It gave her hope and it made her inexplicably relieved that he was counting on her family coming round as much as she was. Suddenly, she didn't want to fight with him anymore. It just wasn't worth the effort. Disagreement was disagreement, and she was willing to leave it at that. Honestly, she couldn't even remember what they had been fighting about. It had been to do with Pansy and Millicent and somehow Percy's name had come up. Well, whatever it had been, continuing to squabble wouldn't help anyone.

"_When_ I get back on the team," she said quietly, with a small smile, "I'm still not calling you _coach_."

Draco paused, saw her changed expression, and shook his head. His own anger left his expression, and he let out a hissing sigh. His tone when he spoke again suggested that he was exhausted of the hostility as well.

"_When _you're back on the team," he said, crossing his arms mockingly, "we'll discuss it."

"What're you talking about?" came an unwelcome voice. "She's not going back to your ruddy team!"

Ginny glared at Ron over Draco's shoulder. She loved her brother – she _really_ did – but sometimes . . .

"Says _you_, Weasley," Draco said, tensely.

"Come on, Malfoy," Hermione said quietly. Clearly, she wanted to avoid a scene, but Ginny was curious to see what Draco would say.

"Yeah, run along back to your dungeon, Malfoy – and take Hermione with you, why don't you?" Ron spat, taking a step forward and reaching for Ginny. She pulled her arm back.

"Come on, Gin!" Ron ordered.

"Yeah, right," she said, looking at him in disgust.

"You're not joining his team again," Ron told her.

"No, I'm not," she said, and when Draco and Ron opened their mouths to speak, she went on coolly, "I can't rejoin when I've never left, can I?"

Draco smiled – actually _smiled _at her. Ron gaped.

"Gin, Mum said you aren't to play."

"I'll change her mind. She was perfectly fine with it before – well, at first."

"Before she found out Malfoy's the ruddy coach," Ron snapped.

"Does it really upset you that much that I'm training your sister, Weasley?" Draco cut in sardonically. "Or that she's better than you?"

Ron stepped forward with his wand raised, and Harry just as quickly pulled him back.

"You've been awfully quiet, Potter," Draco went on, apparently gearing up for a face-off. "I imagine you put your two-sickles in with the Weasleys to keep Gin from playing."

"Ginny knows I didn't say anything to her parents," Harry said quietly, glancing at Ginny.

"You don't like it, either, though, do you?"

When Harry didn't immediately respond, Draco smirked.

"You watch," he said quietly. "They're going to wipe the pitch with you today."

"Don't think we'll go easy because there are Gryffindors on your team, Malfoy," Ron snarled.

"I'd like to see you try it," Draco said, his voice low and menacing. "They've trained hard and they're damned brilliant. I've seen to that." He smirked. "I just hope you don't try to take the Quaffle from Granger."

Ron's eyes flicked to Hermione, who hefted her chin. Ron snorted. Hermione's eyes darkened.

"I'm make you wish you had stayed in Gryffindor tower, Weasley!" she bit out.

They all stared in shock as she turned quickly and strode toward the stairs to the hall.

"She just called me Weasley," Ron said to Harry.

"You've certainly got a way with her," Harry muttered back, sounding both exasperated and awed.

"Least Ginny's not playing today," Ron muttered back, shaking his head.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ginny demanded. "I _will_ get back on the team, Ron. I have to!" She felt herself slip into a pleading tone, but she couldn't help it. She even felt her blasted tear ducts gearing up. "I _really_ want to play!"

"Why can't you try out for Gryffindor next year?" Ron asked, his own voice coaxing. "Come on, Gin, it's not that long to wait."

"What's wrong with me playing now?" Ginny demanded. "I love Quidditch, Ron. I love it as much as you and Harry. And you never let me play at home – really play, I mean, without going easy on me. And now that I'm finally able to play, you and Charlie and Bill and the others aren't letting me – _again_. Do you think I'm delicate? Do you think I can't handle it? Harry thinks I can do it, don't you, Harry?"

"You already know what I think. Please, don't drag me into this," he said, his tone begging her to let it lie. After his pep talk not too long ago, it was rather disheartening to see him backing down in the face of her brother.

"Anyway, Zabini thinks I'm good," she said sharply.

"What's Zabini got to do with this?" Ron said sharply.

"Well," Ginny said, suddenly cautious. She wasn't sure practicing alone with Zabini was entirely allowed. She also wasn't sure whether, if her brother ratted her out, her mum could forbid their practices. "Well, he told me after he'd seen me fly," she said instead. It wasn't a lie – he'd told them the day he proposed the team.

"What does he know about it?" Ron shot back. "Is he your brother?"

"Good thing he isn't," Ginny said shortly. "Otherwise, I would never get any encouragement. Anyway," she added, unable to throw in a brutal blow, "I think I've got one too many brothers already."

Ron gaped at her, his expression surprised and hurt.

"I hate to interrupt," Draco cut in, not sounding sorry at all, "but Ginny and I are due on the pitch."

"But she's not playing!" Ron bellowed.

"No, she's helping Granger with some aerials before the match," Draco retorted, before stepping right into Ron's personal space and adding, "And don't think you can stop her playing. If she wants to, she will, because she's brilliant. If not now, all it will take is practice on her own and she'll have scouts from every team in England breathing down her neck. You're _nothing_ compared to her, Weasley. Absolutely _nothing_. And you might as well learn to cope with that now before someone more qualified tells you later on. Ginny."

Ginny wouldn't have moved if he hadn't taken her arm and pulled her away.

"I – what – what was that about?" she asked, after they had descended two flights of stairs and Ron and Harry hadn't followed.

"Don't, Weasley," Draco said sharply. "Let it go."

"Let it – how can I let it go?" she demanded. But she did quiet down for a moment before saying quietly, "You think I'm brilliant?"

"There's no 'I think' about it," Draco said, not looking at her. "You are – but don't let it go to your head or you'll be as useless as Potter." He was implying that she was as good, in her own right, as Harry.

"I – thanks," she said, feeling herself blush at the indirect compliment.

"Not a word to anyone," Draco ordered sharply as they alighted in the entrance hall. When they reached the door of the Great Hall, he turned to face her, blocking the entrance. "I mean it, Weasley. Not a _word_ about anything this morning. Granger or you or – or anything."

"Okay," she murmured. "I promise."

"Good," he said quietly. "And don't," he added quickly, "think that any of that was personal. You're on my team and that's all there is to it. You're good and I'd just as soon have you as let you play against us with Gryffindor."

"Sure," Ginny said faintly, wondering at his defensive attitude. "Sure, Draco."

"_Coach_," he corrected in a constrained voice.

"Coach," she mumbled. "Can I go in now?"

He stepped aside and Ginny made to pass. Then she paused.

"I'm not even hungry," she said to herself.

"Come to the pitch – I imagine Granger's there now," Draco suggested. His voice had returned to its businesslike tone in an instant, as it had that day in the lockers when he had assured her that she could be anything if she wanted it badly enough.

If she wanted it badly enough . . .

She chewed her lip as she followed Draco toward the pitch. She had heard it a hundred times before: "If you want something badly enough, you'll make it happen." It had always used to annoy her because it was such a dismissive thing to say. People told you that when they had no interest in helping you and wanted you to go sort out whatever it was you wanted for yourself.

But Draco's speech had been different. And he _was_ helping, in his own bizarre way. He kept reminding her that she wasn't off the team officially. He had just told her brother and Harry that she had incredible potential. He pushed her to come to team practice.

_He thinks I have potential_, she thought, with a smile. She turned her head quickly to Draco wouldn't see the look, but he was staring straight ahead across the lawn to the pitch, and probably wouldn't have seen her if she had started break dancer.

"Nervous about the match, _coach_?" she asked, hoping to lighten her own mood as well as his.

"Hardly," he drawled, his nose stuck in the air.

"I am," she said, bluntly.

"Why?" he asked, turning his head slightly to look at her.

"Well, first match and all," Ginny pointed out, stuffing her hands in her pockets. "_I_ don't want us to lose."

"We won't," Draco said tightly.

So much for lightening the mood.

Ginny fell silent, unable and unwilling to continue the conversation. A glance at Draco's profile showed an almost angry expression that was tinged, she thought, with a hint of worry. She thought she understood it. His reputation as a coach was on the line. He had just bragged to Ron and Harry, probably his least favorite people in the world, about how good _his_ team was, which implied that he fancied himself a decent coach. If they didn't prove him right today, his reputation within the school was pretty well shot. Ginny couldn't help wondering what would happen if they didn't do well. Would Draco be angry enough to resign as coach? Would he be too proud to give up on them?

_He's no Gryffindor,_ she reminded herself. _He's ambitious, not necessarily proud._

"Coach! Oy, coach!"

Ginny and Draco turned to see Jools jogging toward them from the castle.

"Boot, what the hell are you doing?" Draco called, sounding irritated. "You're supposed to be on the pitch."

"I've been on the pitch since five this morning!" she retorted, sliding to a halt between him and Ginny. "Alright, Gin?"

"Sure," Ginny said.

"You'd best not have exhausted yourself, Jools," Draco said seriously, peering at her sharply. "I'm putting you with Patil right up."

She smiled brightly, nudging him in the side.

"What kind of mediocre athlete do you take me for, Draco?" she demanded. "I know when to stop."

"Do you?" Draco said, mock-skeptically. Ginny noticed that he didn't say anything about her use of his first name.

"Sure," Jools said, swinging a long arm round his shoulder.

"I'll be the judge of that," he said simply, his hands tucked into his pockets.

They entered the lockers to unusual quiet. Pansy, Patrice, and Betina sat silently on benches in front of their lockers. They were suited up, and Pansy was polishing the handle of her Firebolt. This was wholly unnecessary, as the broom was practically new, but the exercise was clearly helping distract her from the pressure, and no one seemed to want to stop her. A few lockers down, Hermione was lacing up the gold and black cords of her jersey. Her eyes seemed to be dry, and she had a look of intensity on her pale face that Ginny recognized from various times during DA meetings.

"Come on, girls, look alive," Jools piped up. "We've a match in an hour. Try to look as though you won't all be ill."

"Too late," Susie said. She was rubbing Hannah's back sympathetically.

"Well, better out than in before a match," Draco said briskly, strolling into the lockers as though he owned them. "Jools is right, you girls. Look alive! In fact, if you can find room, stretch out. I need to have a word with you anyway, so you might as well be doing something useful while I talk." He looked pointedly at Pansy, who, if she kept on, might have begun wearing away at the paint on the broom handle.

"Is everyone here?" Hermione asked, crossing to sit beside Parvati, who was already lounging on the floor against a row of lockers.

"Yes, I've just done a head count," Susie, ever-prepared co-captain, said from beside Hannah and Adrienne.

"Good." Draco pulled a roll of parchment from his pocket and tacked it up on a board that had been recently installed. They had been staying late after practices to discuss specific positional strategy, so the board was already cluttered with old parchment. The paper he had tacked up now was smaller and had only writing.

"We've been over strategy, and if you don't know it now, my explaining it five minutes before play isn't going to help," he began. "This is just the lineup. Part of the problem with such a large team is that not all of you will be able to play the entire match, or possibly at all." Draco glared around at them. "Live with it. I'm putting you where I'm putting you for a reason. You all have different strengths and weaknesses, and only a certain combination will work fluidly. If you don't play this match, don't worry. There will be plenty more. And quite honestly –" he paused, staring challengingly around at them all – "you wouldn't still be on this team if you weren't talented, so don't think any of this is personal."

Everyone was very quiet. Ginny sat staring at the floor, and feeling for the first time the enormity of what the team was. Draco wasn't kidding – he took them seriously and a really untalented player would never have been allowed to stay on under his direction. He had put too much time, sweat, and energy into the team to accept anything less than what he considered _the best_. Ginny was gratified, in some measure, to know that she lived up to those standards to such a degree that he was willing to fight for her chance to fulfill her potential.

"Now, then," Draco said, his tone forcibly relaxing. "Some of you have pre-match assignments. I suggest you get on them."

His tone made them scatter, and their nerves kept them from jabbering cheerfully as usual. A lot was riding on this match, and they all knew it.

Ginny silently followed Hermione and her Firebolt onto the pitch.

"I'm only going to do a couple of aerials today," Hermione told her. "I'm hoping not to have to use them at all, but Draco says that I haven't a prayer of scoring passed Ron without them."

"That's rubbish," Ginny said. "Maybe if we got a nice, resounding chorus of 'Weasley is our King' going in the Slytherin section . . ." She nudged Hermione's side and her friend smiled.

"You really exploded at him this morning," Ginny said quietly, as Hermione mounted her broom. Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Not that he didn't deserve it," Ginny added hastily.

"I just hope I can make he wish he'd stayed in Gryffindor Tower," Hermione muttered, biting her lip and gazing up at the goalposts high above. The intense expression was firmly in place and Ginny was suddenly glad _she_ wouldn't have to play against Hermione.

Pity she couldn't play with her, either.

Hermione kicked off from the ground and for the next half-hour, Ginny watched and directed her while she practiced. She wasn't bad at aerials, but she lacked the confidence to attempt the more dangerous ones and some of her shots were downright tentative.

"Draco's right to want you back – Granger just doesn't have it, goal-wise."

"Hello, Zabini," Ginny said without taking her eyes off of Hermione. "Do you have Draco's permission to –"

"Draco's _permission_?" he repeated, sounding offended. "It's a free country, Weasley. What's he going to do, carry me off the pitch?"

"Don't put anything passed him," Ginny said. She cupped her hands around her mouth. "Forget it, Mione! That's drop is too slow. Just stick with the basic over-the-top, and I guess you'll have to settle for scoring like a normal person this match." Ginny sighed, passing a hand over her brow. "It's not lack of talent," she murmured, almost to herself. "It's lack of ambition."

"You sound like Draco," Blaise said.

"Thanks a lot." Ginny grimaced at him. "That's exactly what I need to hear right now."

"Blaise, what the devil are you doing out here?" Draco came storming onto the pitch. "You're distracting Weasley, and probably Granger."

"Never mind – I've done all I can with Hermione for now," Ginny jumped in, figuring that allowing Draco to aggravate himself any further would be unhealthy, for him as well as everyone within five miles.

"Anyway, I'm not the unwanted visitor you need to worry about right now," Blaise told Draco, pointing over his shoulder.

Ginny stared. Harry was plodding toward them across the pitch, suited up, with his Firebolt over his shoulder. Ginny couldn't read his expression, but she decided that his gait was unwilling at best. She let out a breath. At least he didn't seem to be here to pick any more fights.

"Granger!" Draco called. "Get down here, now!"

Typical, paranoid Draco. He was probably trying to avoid Harry gauging their skill level, and Hermione, who was likely to be underrated as an athlete, was sort of their secret weapon.

_Harry was the secret weapon once_, Ginny thought. Ron had told her about Harry's first match, and how no one knew what to expect of him until his first dive after the Snitch.

"What's Harry doing?" Hermione murmured to Ginny as she set gracefully down beside her.

"Whatever it is, he doesn't look happy about it," Natalie put in, coming to stand beside them with Adrienne, Susan, and Patrice.

"Probably trying to intimidate Betina," Pansy put in crossly from Ginny's other side, eyeing Harry with an unfriendly look. Ginny watched her for a moment, wondering if her hostility would dissolve into house loyalty. She hoped not – the point of this team was to break down those biases. Ginny remembered Harry telling her he was trying to tone down his own share of the prejudice against Slytherin, and hoped he had it in him to keep his temper as he had earlier that morning.

"Potter, what're you doing here?" Draco said, his voice cold, but not provocative. Ginny was relieved – he didn't want a fight right now, particularly not before a match.

"Dumbledore sent me," he said as he drew level and came to a stop before Draco. He didn't look at any of the girls around him, though Ginny suddenly realized that their entire team was out there. "He wanted to know if you're all accounted for and ready."

"We've been ready for weeks," Draco said simply. "Tell him we'll be in the lockers, whenever your team is ready."

Harry nodded curtly. "He also requested that you and Gin sit with him in the teacher's box, if that's all right."

"Sure that's the only reason you came out here, Potter?" Pansy spoke up.

_Oh, no_, Ginny thought, and was about to tell her to stuff it, because they didn't need fisticuffs right now, but Draco stepped in.

"That's enough, Pansy," he said sharply, as Harry turned back.

"I'd say it is," Harry said coolly, his eyes boring into Pansy's. "I want a fair match. I'm not here to sabotage your . . . team." Clearly, he was reigning in his temper.

"Of course he's not," Hermione spoke up from beside Ginny. She stepped forward and held out her hand. "Good luck today, Harry."

Harry stared at her for a long moment, and Ginny wondered what was going through his head. Was he thinking about his part in Ron and Hermione's dispute? Was he thinking about his promising words to Ginny? Would he accept Hermione's peace offering, at least for now?

"You, too," he said, stepping forward and taking her hand. Ginny saw Hermione's shoulders relax, and she gave him a tiny, hesitant smile, which he returned with an apologetic one. As peace offerings went, it was as good as it was going to get. Ginny doubted very much whether Harry and Hermione, at least, would have been permanently separated by Quidditch, though she could never tell with Ron.

Harry turned again and, unmolested by confrontational Slytherins, walked briskly back across the pitch to the Gryffindor lockers, where several heads were bobbing in and out. Ginny could distinguish her brother's among them.

"Into the lockers, girls!" Draco barked, making Ginny jump. "Weasley, into the stands. Blaise, feel free to get lost."

The other girls began to filter into the lockers. Ginny gave her good wishes to everyone, and then hurried across to the stands. She didn't really want to sit with the teachers, but where else would she, and especially Draco, be welcome?

"You could always sit with the Slytherins," Blaise said from her side, making her jump.

"Why are you following me, Zabini?" she asked testily, mounting the steps to the stands.

"Who says I am?" he said. "These very same stairs go to the Slytherin box, in case you hadn't noticed."

Ginny didn't respond, annoyed to discover that mounting nerves were making her irrationally irritable. She didn't say anything, but continued into the teacher's box.

"We still on for practice this afternoon?" Blaise called after her.

She paused – but really, the team's winning or losing had little to do with her at this point.

"Yes," she said, taking her seat and watching him take his. Minutes later, the stands began to fill around them and Ginny was fully immersed in her anxiety again.

"Scoot, Weasley."

Ginny glanced up to see Draco beside her. She slid down the bench and he seated himself, looking the image of self-containment and calm. As close as she was to him, she could see his eyes burning with determination and, surprisingly (or not, as Draco never went halfway with anything), anger. He was letting a lot ride on this game. She could see the endless possibilities flickering across his eyes with each blink. He wasn't merely considering the possibilities. He was planning, she knew – planning for the future of the team, planning his defense against attacks from all sides, if they lost.

_But what if we win_? Ginny wondered.

"Weasley," Draco said tightly, without turning to look at her. "Stop _staring_ at me."

"Sorry – coach," she murmured, turning quickly away and watching the empty pitch intently.

"We're going to win," he said shortly.

"No, we're not," Ginny whispered, trying to keep her misgivings to herself. They were _good _– of that she had no doubt. But the team they were playing was _incredible_. She knew Betina didn't stand a chance against Harry, but what about the Chasers? Everything was riding on Hermione and Pansy. If Millicent had been Beater still . . . but no. Parvati was excellent, but Natalie _was_ small. Ginny knew that Jools would be up before Natalie was allowed to play, and Jools _was_ as good as Parvati . . .

"Weasley, if we weren't sitting in a box full of teachers . . ." Draco trailed off, leaving the implication of exactly how much she was hacking him off to stand.

"I can't help it!" Ginny muttered back. "I feel helpless!"

"And you think that you being down there playing instead of up here doubting your perfectly capable teammates would make all the different?" he retorted quietly.

That stung – she hadn't meant that her participation would make or break the game. She suddenly remembered the last time she had been in the stands with Draco. Their conversation then had also ended in battle. She didn't want that to happen again.

"I'm sorry, coach."

"So am I, Weasley. I don't like relying on Granger to score."

Ginny felt a swell of gratitude. He was meeting her halfway – she could deal with that.

"Hello, Draco. Miss Weasley."

They looked up as Albus Dumbledore seated himself on the bench behind them. He looked perfectly cheerful, as if nothing could upset him today.

"Well, Draco," he said, folding his long, wrinkled hands in his lap and smiling down at the blonde. "How do the girls feel today?"

"They're fantastic, sir," Draco said, without missing a beat. Ginny doubted that even Dumbledore's keen eyes would see the nervousness Draco was concealing behind a thoroughly confident demeanor. "They've been working very hard, and I think it will show today."

"I trust it will," Dumbledore said, with a nod of evident approval. "Win or lose, they will undoubtedly impress many. The first match of the season always seems to set the tone for the rest of the year."

Ginny and Draco stared at him. When had Dumbledore become an introspective Quidditch philosopher? While Ginny considered this, Colin Creevey climbed into the box, taking his commentator's seat in front of McGonagall and adjusting the microphone.

"All right, Gin?" he said over his shoulder.

"Fine," she said shortly, not trusting herself to say much else. That was the second time someone had asked her that today. When had she become so good at lying?

Well. Let the game begin.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Colin's magically magnified voice echoed across the packed stadium. "Welcome to our first match of the season. And what a first match it will be! For the first time in the history of Hogwarts, an outside team will participate in the Hogwarts championship. These girls come from all four houses, representing the talent of lion, badger, eagle, and snake. Ladies and gentlemen, flying under the banner of a Nundu, the most deadly cat in the world, I give you PATIL, PARKINSON, GRANGER, BOOT, PATIL, BONES, aaaaand JOHNSON!"

"Eloquent little speech, there, Creevey," Draco muttered, adding his clapping to the lukewarm applause echoing around the stadium. The Ravenclaws were fairly enthusiastic, and the Hufflepuffs even more so. Their loyalty was hard to shake, and even if they didn't like some of their own flying against them, they were supportive. The Ravenclaws followed a similar pattern of thought, as they also had a member of their house heading up the captaincy. The Slytherins surprised Ginny for a moment by their enthusiasm, until she realized that they would rather that _anyone_ win if it showed up Gryffindor.

Ginny smiled tightly as her teammates shot out into the stadium at breakneck speed. Draco had forced them all to rehearse their entrance repeatedly earlier that week, insisting that first impressions lasted a lifetime. This particular first impression went over quite well. Jools and Susie led the lap, weaving around each other in visually confusing, but really quite simple, repeating patterns. The other girls followed in tight formation behind them, except Betina, who flew in a straight line above them. Draco had repeatedly said that he was giving Harry absolutely no idea what his competition was before it was absolutely necessary.

"Very impressive, ladies," Colin's voice went, as the girls landed gracefully enough on the field below. Patrice, who had always had a hard time landing, stumbled a bit, but Ginny didn't think it was too obvious to anyone not used to watching her. Draco hissed very gently between his teeth. Clearly, _he_ felt it was one accident too many. "And now, a team more familiar to Hogwarts' Quidditch goers – and a personal favorite of mine –"

"Creevey!"

"Sorry, Professor," Colin said with a grin. Ginny could tell he enjoyed riling her up as much as Lee Jordan had. "Anyway, come on out, Gryffindor! Take a good look at FINNEGAN, CREEVEY, CHRISTENSEN, BENNET, GRITLEY, WEASLEY, aaaaand POTTER!"

The Gryffindors, apparently deciding at the last minute that the other team's show was too much a challenge to pass up, shot out into the stadium. All seven up them were hanging, upside down, from their brooms, and looked utterly ridiculous. The cheering, which was far more enthusiastic than it had been for the girls, was mixed with gales of laughter.

"What are they doing?" she demanded.

"Doing what Gryffindors do best – trying to be clever," Draco said tensely from beside her.

It took Ginny a moment to realize what he meant. Then she saw that their formation was exactly the same as the girls' formation had been, but with the added ridiculousness of being upside down.

"They're mocking us," Ginny said blankly.

"Well spotted," Draco deadpanned.

"That's completely out of line!" she said loudly.

"What, taunting the other team?" Draco gave a mirthless laugh. "Happens at every match, Gin."

She could hardly argue with this. So she sat back and prayed to every god she knew off the top of her head that Hermione and Pansy were getting nice and angry. She knew _she_ was. She bit her lip and crossed her arms mutinously. She wasn't about to encourage that sort of behavior; even it _was_ her own house.

"Well done, Gryffindor!" Colin said into the loud speaker as the Gryffindors settled onto the field across from the girls. Ginny could see that Betina, Patrice, and Parvati had all crossed the arms and were standing combatively. But Jools and Susie, standing at the head of the team, appeared to be neutrally waiting for Gryffindor to get on with it.

_It's why they're captains_, Ginny thought proudly.

Madam Hooch moved onto the field and appeared to be giving her usual speech about fair play, rules, and so on. Ginny remembered it from her short time as Harry's replacement. A moment later, Hooch stood back and Harry shook Jools' hand, then Susie's. Then they were in the air. Madam Hooch blew a loud blast on her whistle, released the balls, and then kicked off from the ground herself to monitor the game.

Pansy dove forward and snatched the Quaffle, weaving expertly through the Gryffindor lines and shooting off toward the goalposts. Hermione was hot on her tail, with Patrice bringing up the rear. It was a solid Hawkshead Attacking Formation, but Ginny, unlike the Gryffindor Chasers, knew that it wouldn't stay that way long, provided Pansy could hang onto the ball.

She couldn't. Seamus Finnegan, opposing Chaser, came up underneath her, just as a Bludger cut sharply across her path. Hermione saw all this an instant before Pansy, but was too far away to get to the dropped Quaffle before Seamus. He banked sharply and sped away, Dennis Creevey and Aden Christensen in tight formation around him.

Ginny frowned. She didn't remember them flying that well during her _fifth_ year. Without knowing it, she was perched on the edge of her chair.

"Pansy should have spotted that Bludger," Draco said from beside her. He was bent forward, eyes fixed on the specks above the pitch.

"She couldn't have seen it – it came from just behind her and Seamus was right below her," Ginny said absently, watching Hermione execute a spectacular Drag Stop in Seamus' path, which would have succeeded in causing him to lose the ball if Patrice had been above her. When Seamus skidded to a halt to avoid colliding with Hermione, he tossed the ball up and Dennis, who _was_ above him, caught it and continued toward the girls' goalpost.

"Shit," Ginny muttered, as Patrice, realizing her mistake, took off after him with Pansy. It was a worthless endeavor, as Dennis was nearly to the goalpost. With practiced ease, he hooked the ball toward the central hoop.

With impressive grace, Susie dove for it and caught it neatly, knocking it to Hermione, who was waiting.

There was a great, "_Oooh_!" from the disappointed Gryffindors, while Ginny and the Hufflepuffs cheered loudly for Susie.

Hermione, Pansy, and Patrice were back in formation. Hermione was a bit ahead of the other two. Pansy and Patrice were keeping the other Chasers off of Hermione, while Jools and Parvati fought for control of the Bludgers with the Gryffindor Beaters. Ginny tensed as Hermione neared the goalposts. She knew what her friend was going to do, and it was risky.

Hermione was nearer the goalposts, while Pansy and Patrice hung back. Ron was positioned in front of the goalposts, weaving in a practiced pattern back and forth in front of them. Ginny knew that after their spat that morning, Ron would be damned if anything Hermione threw got past him. Hermione let him think that she planned to throw the ball until the last minute, when she swerved around the scoring area so that she was behind the central hoop. Ron whirled in surprise, even as Hermione tossed the ball to Pansy. Pansy, surrounded by other Chasers, had no hope of scoring without being blocked. But Patrice, who was momentarily free, caught the Quaffle that was thrown sideways to her and put it neatly through the hoop, while Ron was still trying to sort out what had happened.

"And that's a score for the opposing team!" Colin's voice echoed around the stadium.

The effect of this statement was interesting. The Slytherins clapped in what might have been called a polite fashion. The Ravenclaws were only marginally enthusiastic, but the Hufflepuffs shrieked and cheered for Patrice. Thus far, players from their house were saving the game.

_It could be worse,_ Ginny thought, chewing her fingernail. _We could be being booed_. What would _that_ do to the younger girls? Well, it wasn't as though they hadn't been prepared. In fact, Ginny realized that they were receiving a better reception than she had expected.

Back on the pitch, play had resumed in earnest. Ginny could tell that Ron was furious by the way he gripped his broom handle and managed to sit straight-backed at the same time. She felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. If he hadn't been taking them seriously before, he was now, and that was bad. Ron was good – quite good, after his experience during Ginny's fourth year. Now that he was really focusing for the first time, Ginny doubted that either Pansy or Hermione stood a chance of scoring. Patrice had used her own skill to maximum affect moments ago, and no one was likely to underestimate her again.

_If _I_ was out there_ . . . she thought angrily. _Ron, you prat, you wouldn't have a prayer_.

"We need you out there," Draco mumbled, his voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

"I know," Ginny moaned, belatedly realizing that he was probably talking to himself. She went a bit pink when she felt his eyes on the side of her head.

"What?" she said, turning to meet his amused gaze.

He stared at her a moment, before shaking his head. "Modest, too."

Ginny grinned embarrassedly. He had her there.

A roar from the crowd pulled their attention back to the game.

"Oh, dear, that _must_ have hurt. Seems Patil's out of the game."

"Which one, which one?" Draco demanded, jumping to his feet and gripping the railing of the teacher's box with white knuckles. Ginny was watching as well, hoping whichever of her friends it was wasn't too badly hurt.

"Blurting, that was," Colin was saying.

Ginny was enraged that no one seemed unduly concerned about Patrice and turned to express her indignation to Draco. But he was gone, hopping down the steps and into the back entrance to the lockers. Ginny doubted if anyone else had noticed his flight.

"And do they have a replacement?" Colin said, craning to look at the field, where a timeout had been called and where Dennis Creevey was being given a talking-to by Madam Hooch for Blurting – locking broom handles to steer the opponent's broom off course – usually into something like the pitch barrier or the goalposts. From where Patrice had landed, Ginny guessed it was the latter. Well, that was something – they were getting a definite penalty out of the ordeal. Two, if Hooch was feeling friendly.

"Ah, it seems Malfoy _does_ keep reserves," Colin said at length. "And is it . . . ah, yes, it's Adrienne Abbot replacing her Hufflepuff teammate. Good luck, Abbot."

Ginny didn't care for the faint, though not pronounced amusement in Colin's voice at all.

Adrienne took off and shot into the air to join Pansy and Hermione, the former of whom began talking quickly to her as soon as she joined them. A moment later, Jools swooped down to join them. Their hasty conversation was put an end to by Madam Hooch asking Jools if they were ready to resume play. Jools must have answered in the affirmative, because moments later, there was another blast of the whistle, and Adrienne flew forward to take the penalty. Ginny's heart sank for her friend. She hadn't been on the pitch five minutes and she was being set up for a disappointment.

Sure enough, she attempted a diversion by diving to the side, then swerving just outside the Keeper red zone. The move was well executed, considering how nervous Adrienne probably was, but Ron had undoubtedly seen the maneuver a hundred times, and he blocked the shot easily. The Gryffindors cheered and Ginny hated them.

"And with the missed shot, the game's back on," Colin said over the speaker. "Thus far, the girls have a slight lead – 10, 0. Come on Gryffindors, where are you?"

Ginny clenched her fists.

"Did I miss anything?" Draco said, reseating himself beside her and making her jump.

"No," Ginny sighed. "Adrienne missed the penalty, but with Ron all bent out of shape, it was expected."

"You always such a pessimist, Weasley?" Draco said rather sharply.

"I prefer to think of myself as a realist, _coach_," she retorted, leaning forward to watch the game and ignoring the gaze she could feel burning into the back of her neck.

The game progressed slowly, because the Chasers were fairly well matched. It soon became clear that Jools and Gryffindor sixth year Jake Gritley were the superior Beaters, and more often than not it was the two of them trading Bludgers, leaving fifth year Navy Bennet and Parvati little to do. Ginny thought this unfortunate, since Parvati wasn't too bad and clearly wanted to do her part to beat the stuffing out of her housemates.

Meanwhile, there had been no apparent sighting of the Snitch. Ginny watched the Seekers sitting quietly above the game. Betina had hardly moved, although whether this was a move of tactic or of sheer terror, Ginny didn't know. She felt for her friend – playing a first match against Harry Potter, Youngest Seeker in a Century, would have made _Ginny_ scared. Bad enough that she had once played in his place – playing against him was inconceivable.

Another commotion on the pitch below called Ginny's attention away. This time, unfortunately, the foul was on _her_ team.

"Bumphing!" Draco muttered from Ginny's side as Madam Hooch's whistled sounded and Seamus flew forward to take the penalty. "Jools knows better."

"That didn't look like _intentional_ Bumphing," Ginny said hesitantly. "It looked like Jools trying to protect Parkinson."

"Either way, she hit the Bludger toward into the crowd," Draco said, another hissing sigh filtering through his teeth. "And the Ravenclaws, at that. They're a sensible bunch, but I doubt if they'll take that sort of abuse lightly."

"Sometimes I really hate houses," Ginny grumbled back, watching Seamus sink the penalty. She shook her head. Susie was fairly confident in her own abilities, but allowing a penalty through might shake her a bit.

It didn't seem to, but suddenly she was dealing with a full-on assault from the Gryffindor Chasers. The Beaters had joined the Chasers, and the five players were flying in such tight formation that it was next to impossible that Hermione or Pansy would break through their net. Jools and Parvati were attempting to gain control of the Bludgers, but it was a lost cause. The game continued in such a vain until five more goals for Gryffindor had been scored, and Susie had been knocked through the goal herself. Pansy managed to catch her hand halfway down and break her fall, but it was clear that Susie was in no fit state to play anymore and, without waiting for Draco's leave, Hannah was brought out to replace her. Ginny saw them exchange a few words on the pitch, and was sure that Susie was trying to reassure Hannah that she would be fine. Ginny hoped her friend could pull her nerves together in time to help rescue the match.

Perhaps, she thought sometime later, it would be best simply to wish for the match to end. Although Pansy and Hermione had somehow managed to score two additional goals, Gryffindor had managed four more. Hannah was a nervous wreck and reminded Ginny strongly of Ron during his first several matches. She was certainly good enough, but her nerves were shot to pieces. She wasn't used to the crowded stadium and the less-than-enthusiastic welcome wasn't helping. There had also been some action with the Snitch, but Jools and Parvati had managed a brilliant double block and thrown Harry, who had outstripped Betina, completely off course. While Ginny knew that flummoxing Harry Potter was something to be proud of, she doubted very much if it would happen again.

She was beginning to wish she were less intuitive. Not only did Harry not fall for the Bludger routine the second time around, but Betina, in a fit of extreme bravery and stupidity, in Ginny's opinion, threw herself forward on her broom and caught the tail of his. It was Blagging, and Ginny vaguely remembered seeing Draco do it during a match some years ago. Unfortunately, Betina had never attempted it before, and while she was able to slow Harry up long enough for the Snitch to vanish, she was also pulled clean off her own broom and hung precariously from the tail of his before dropping a fortunate ten feet onto the pitch.

_We're finished_, Ginny thought wildly, very glad that she didn't seem to be able to vocalize. _Even if Pansy and Hermione spend the rest of the match scoring . . . _

Ginny glanced at Draco. His spine was ramrod straight, his eyes unreadable.

"Well, it seems the girls are having a bit of a rough time," Colin said. "Without a Seeker, their chances of winning the match are almost non-existent. Will they be forfeiting the match to Gryffindor?"

A loud cheer from the Gryffindors filled the pitch, and Colin turned with raised eyebrows to Draco.

"Fat chance, Creevey!" Draco bit out. "I notice Potter hasn't caught the Snitch yet."

A short phrase, but one that had the desired affect. Colin turned quickly back to the microphone, looking abashed and a bit annoyed.

"It would seem that this match will be seen through to the end," he said, and the Slytherins hooted and shouted gleefully. Ginny had a feeling that they were cheering as much for the miniscule chance of Gryffindor losing as for the girls sustaining as many injuries as possible, particularly Pansy.

It was fortunate, Ginny thought wearily, that the match only lasted another twenty minutes. Pansy had managed to score twice more, Hermione once. Parvati had managed to keep Harry from catching the Snitch for a final time, but was shortly thereafter dispatched to the hospital wing after taking the other Bludger to her right knee. Not five minutes after Parvati was helped off the field by Hooch, Harry caught the Snitch, and the Gryffindors cheered loudly enough to be heard thirty miles off. Colin happily announced the final score (Gryffindor, two hundred and fifty; the girls, sixty) and Ginny would gladly have pitched his microphone at her brother's head, for all his parading around with Harry and the rest of the team, none of whom seemed to have more than a scratch between them.

Ginny glanced at Draco to see how he took it and was surprised to see him on his feet, and already halfway to the stairs.

"Where're you going?" she called, pushing through the crowd of professors and catching his sleeve.

"To find a nice, quiet room to rot peacefully away in," he retorted, turning reluctantly back to face her. He looked terrible. His expression, half furious and half desperate, made Ginny ache for their loss – for _his_ loss.

"You can't do that," she heard herself saying. "The girls need you."

She wasn't expecting her words to have any affect. If anything, she expected him to lash out. What she didn't expect was for him to step right into her personal space and grasp her shoulders painfully.

"You'd just better get back on the team, Weasley," he said, just loudly enough to be heard over the roar of the crowd. "You'd just better, because we will _not_ lose like that again!"

He stepped quickly away from her and made for the stairs again.

Ginny let him go. She was disappointed, too. After all their planning, all their practice, the incredible effort Draco had put into bringing them together and getting them uniforms, brooms, and a spot in the house championships, their first match had been a tremendous flop. What was worse, Draco had stuck his neck out for Ginny and Hermione just that morning, and now he was going to pay dearly for it with pride. Ginny rather doubted that the Hufflepuffs would dare harass him, and didn't think that the Ravenclaws would be inclined to. But the Slytherins, and worse, the Gryffindors, would not let him forget this match.

"Who'd've thought the day would come," Ginny muttered to herself as she hastened toward the lockers, "that I would sympathize more with Draco Malfoy than with my brother?"

**)BW(**

Draco wasn't quite sure what he was going to say to the remaining seven girls when he entered the locker room a few minutes after accosting Ginny in the stands. He was furious with them, although he knew it hadn't really been their fault. This _was_ their first match, and against, admittedly, the best team in the school. The unfairness of it made Draco even angrier. Potter had probably rigged the schedule. Draco wished he had contested the lineup with Dumbledore, but he had been confident that his girls would shine.

They hadn't.

He took a brief survey when he arrived in the lockers. The scene was bleak. Natalie McDonald, the one girl who hadn't played, was looked as dejected, if not more so, than the girls who had. Probably feeling helpless, and like Ginny, wondering if her involvement would have changed the outcome of the match.

"Well," Draco heard himself say, eyeing them and still undecided whether to yell or not. He knew it wouldn't do any good – what was done, was done – but it would probably make _him_ feel better.

The choice, however, was taken out of his hands by Pansy, who looked up quickly at the sound of his voice and then, without a moment's hesitation, threw herself into his arms and burst into tears.

"I'm sorry!" she wailed, seemingly uncaring that she was in a room full of Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs. "I'm sorry, Draco! I tried – _we_ tried – but we're rubbish. Oh, pleas don't yell, we know we're rubbish. You don't need to remind us."

Draco pulled her back off his shoulder and glared sternly at her. "You're not rubbish – you're a great, foolish twat!" he snapped, tugging at her chin until she was looking him in the eye. "For god's sake, step back and be logical. This was your first match! And you were playing against a bunch of prats who, though it _pains _me to admit it, are probably the best team Hogwarts has seen in years. This is for all of you," he added, directly his glower around the lockers and meeting the eye of each of them. More than half were teary, although he was relieved to detect that anger and frustration, rather than the overwhelming realism of Quidditch, seemed to be the cause. The girls weren't upset because "real games" of Quidditch were harder or scarier than expected. They were crying because they were furious that the school hadn't seem their full potential, and in spite of himself, Draco was proud of them for that.

"What good," Draco said, deciding that it was too late now to digress to shouting, "do you think copping out today would have done? What do you think dwelling on this match will accomplish? The answer is _nothing_! I want each of you who played to go away to your dormitory and have a nap or a break or something. Anything it takes to put this match out of your mind. Tomorrow during practice – that's right, Abbot, _practice_; you think we don't need it? – tomorrow, I'll talk with each of you about your performance and what you need to work on. Then _all of you_ will work together to fix the errors from today, including you, McDonald. I hope you were watching your teammates, and I'm sorry you didn't have enough time to get in the air when Patil Sr. was fouled. For now, though, _all of you _take the day off and let it go. McDonald, be sure Granger doesn't resort to N.E.W.T. practice exams."

The lockers were silent for a long moment, and Draco wondered whether they should circle up and do a secret handshake or something.

Suddenly, Pansy had thrown her arms around his neck again, although he was relieved that she was no longer crying. Then, to his amazement, little Betina Johnson crossed the room and put her arms around both of them. Adrienne followed. Draco was too shocked to react at all, even when the rest of the team suddenly swarmed around.

_Victim of a group hug_, he thought vaguely. _And not entirely minding_, he realized in horror a second later.

"This could be our team handshake, _coach_," a familiar, snarky voice said in Draco's ear.

"Don't even think about it, Weasley," he said sharply. He hadn't heard her follow him in, let alone felt her arms slide around his waist. He tried not to think too hard about it.

"Well, isn't this quaint?"

"Will someone else tell him he's unwelcome here since he obviously won't listen to me?" Draco said loudly in Blaise's direction. His best friend stood in the locker doorway, smirking at Draco, who must have looked as though he were drowning in girls.

"Are you kidding?" Granger asked incredulously from somewhere behind Ginny. "He's stubborn as a mule. Try convincing him to take his own Potions notes."

Draco couldn't help chuckling a little at his friend's antics and felt a little lighter in spite of himself.

"Delightful as this bonding has been," he called in his most sarcastic voice over the increased volume of the girls, who were also cheering up, "most of you are disgustingly sweaty. Go shower this instant and then off to your dormitories with you."

They reluctantly disengaged, spreading out to remove gear and claim showers.

"You should go see the girls in the hospital," Ginny said, coming round to face him when she was able to detach herself from his waist. "I, uh, I think Jools, especially, will be really happy to see you," she added, with a funny look.

"I _should_ go," Draco agreed reluctantly.

"There will be other matches, you know," she ventured. "And if – _when_ I'm back on the team – well, hopefully, I can be of some help."

"That's astonishingly optimistic of you, Weasley," Draco said, eyeing her with his hands on his hips. Considering all the mumbling she'd been doing during the match, it really was an upbeat thing for her to say.

"Well," she said, with a tiny smile, "_one_ of us has to be."

She let the smile expand just a little, before turning away and crossing to Blaise.

"Come on, Zabini," she said. "Let's go practice."

"Sure," he said. "Pans," he added, squeezing her arm as she passed on her way to a shower, "good show."

"Whatever, Zabini," Pansy snorted, though her face relaxed a bit into a smug grin.

Draco watched Blaise and Ginny go with a funny mixture of relief and suspicion. He was glad to see his friend go – he, Draco, knew that the aftereffects of this match were not going to be pleasant and he had no desire to face Blaise Zabini's intolerable scrutiny. But his suspicion that something besides Quidditch was going on between Ginny and Blaise . . .

"Stop that, Draco," Pansy ordered quietly from beside him. How or when she'd arrived there without him noticing was anyone's guess.

"Stop what?" he demanded, glancing sharply at her.

"Stop twitching," she said with a straight face. "You'll develop wrinkles around your eyes."

"Did a Bludger graze your brain during the match, Pansy?" he retorted. "Because I'm not twitching. Maybe you should go see Madam Pomphrey."

"Blaise isn't interested in Weasley," Pansy said. Her style didn't generally tend toward blunt jabs in the chest, but she _had_ been hanging about with Gryffindors lately.

"How do you know that and what does it have to do with me?" Draco demanded sharply.

"Because I have a fairly good idea who Blaise _is_ interested in, as would you if you turned him half an eye once and a while, and don't be a prat, you know exactly what it has to do with you," Pansy answered in a breath. Before Draco could retort or give her laps, she slipped away and managed to cut Granger off as she made for a shower.

Draco wandered out of the lockers, trying very hard not to think about the match or Pansy's parting words.

He had a nasty feeling she was onto something.

**)BW(**

TBC


	9. The Afterglow

Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.R.'s. Sincerest thanks to the Goddess of pro-fic . . .

A/N: My deepest apologies for the almost-ten-month gap of NOTHING vis a vis "Bend It". What with "War's End" and surgery and summer camp and senior year of college, life has not been simple. Good, but complicated. Anyway, here is what I have of the next chapter. I think you've all waited long enough to have it. Hopefully the next chapter won't be nearly so long in coming. This chapter's miraculous appearance is a culmination of procrastination and inspiration as both derived from and English class for which I had to read Harry Potter and The Philosopher's Stone. It was truly inspiring and gave me the will to complete this chapter and plan for the next. Thank my professor.

Hope you enjoy, SORRY there isn't more, but know that plans have been made!

**P.S.** _**HAPPY 20th BIRTHDAY**_ to my DAHLING suitie **_Nikki_**, to whom I dedicate this chapter. I love you and I really did get this up as part of your birthday pressy. Wait till you see all the other goofy stuff I got you. Kisses, Twi!

**)BW(**

"Really splendid match today," Blaise called to Ginny, tossing the Quaffle to her and giving her a moment's head start before pelting up the field after her.

"Come _on_, Zabini, it was dreadful," Ginny retorted, fumbling the ball when she turned to look incredulously back at him. Cursing, she banked right and dove for the slowly descending ball, to which he beat her with little effort.

"Butterfingers, indeed," Blaise said, tossing her the ball again with a small smile. "_You_ come on, Weasley. I know having Draco as a coach has probably turned you into the world's most depressing pessimist, but try, for a change, to be positive."

Ginny recognized the words – Draco's from earlier – and scowled.

"Fine," she growled. "Explain to me what there is to be positive about."

Blaise hovered five feet in front of her and cocked his dark head to the side.

"Whether or not you won or lost, the team made a really impressive show today," he said. "Or didn't you notice your Chasers' first goal? That was truly excellent flying. Bones made a really impressive save, and Boot and Patil definitely showed Potter up. You may have lost this match, but to what end? Have you lost house points? Will you never play again? No, on both counts. You haven't lost anything."

Ginny eyed him thoughtfully. He had a kind of point. It was easy to forget how little the team actually had to lose. Their rights as a team wouldn't be revoked no matter how many times they lost, because as Draco had explained to them, Dumbledore was interested in the success of this venture insofar as it unified the four Houses. So long as they continued to work well together, they had a kind of job security. They also had a number of incredible practices that they all enjoyed immensely, the memories of which would probably change them all materially – _had_ already changed Parkinson and Bulstrode in quite a literal way.

Ginny frowned. She hadn't thought too much about this before, but it now occurred to her that the team probably only had until the end of the year anyway, since Draco, Jools, Susie – indeed, about half the team – would all be graduating. Ginny pushed that unpleasant end from her head and turned her focus on something more immediate.

"So do I get to know what _your_ vested interest in our team is?" she asked, diving around Blaise with the ball tucked under her arm. She turned her head against the roar of air ripping passed to hear his reply.

"If you don't know," he called, "I'm not going to tell you."

Didn't _that_ sound familiar? She yanked her broom to an abrupt halt and turned to look him square in the eye. To his credit, he avoided the impending collision excellently.

"Do you fancy me, Zabini?" she demanded severely. "Because if you do, these little practices end now. I haven't time for stupid Slytherin games."

His look of haughty distain both relieved and annoyed her.

"Don't flatter yourself, Weasley," he snorted. "I set my sights a bit higher than the likes of you and anyway, I wouldn't _dare_ get in Draco's way." Before she could ask what, precisely, he meant by that, he knocked the ball from her limp grasp and darted away.

_Damn_, she thought sourly. As if she didn't have enough to worry about …

**)BW(**

As post-first-game-of-the-season receptions went, Draco had to admit that his and his teams' could have been a lot worse. Upon returning slowly downstairs after visiting Parvati Patil and Susie Bones in the hospital wing, with Jools Boot and Hermione Granger in tow, he had been relatively surprised when he had realized that rather than taunting him or throwing rotten food in his general direction, students from all four Houses appeared to be giving him a wide birth.

"Perhaps it's the way you two smell," he said absently to Jools and Granger, watching a pair of Ravenclaw first-years skip quickly away up the stairs, identical looks of awe and fear on their little faces.

"Ow," he commented a moment later. Both arms smarted and he glared between the Beater and Chaser.

"Teach you to mock your girls," Jools said, though he saw her smile.

"I thought you'd learnt your lesson back in third year," Granger quipped, her lip twitching.

"Third year?" Jools asked.

"Granger, stuff it," Draco warned.

"Or what?" she said innocently. "You'll hit _me_?"

"You _hit_ him?" Jools gasped over a sharp, surprised laugh.

"You bet," Granger said, adding quickly at the look on Draco's face, "But I'd never dream of doing it again –"

"You'd best not," Draco nodded.

"– because you wouldn't dream of being such an insufferable, conceited little prat again, would you?" Granger said, with a sharp-toothed grin.

"Oh … go snog Potter," Draco muttered, glaring at her.

"Is that the best you can do?" Jools cut in.

"Have some sympathy," Draco returned coolly. "Watching you lot play today was enough to exhaust me."

Jools and Granger's smiles disappeared instantly.

"That's not what I meant and you know it!" he said sharply. "Lighten up. You were just fine and you'll be even better for the next match."

Their expression did lighten a bit, although Granger said tremulously, "Did – did Dumbledore say anything to you?"

"About what?" Draco stared at her.

"About the game," she said. "I mean, he's our backer, isn't he?"

"Granger, what did I just tell you lot in the lockers?" Draco said impatiently. "One lost game loses us _nothing_. And we'll have a damned nice follow up in a month or so – just you wait."

"I didn't bring it up in the lockers because I didn't want to worry the younger girls," she said, lowering her voice. "I'm just concerned that if we don't put on a decent show –"

"I'm telling you, we've nothing to lose!" Draco snapped. "Dumbledore fronted the money for this because he is mad and loves inter-House unity or some rubbish like that. He's letting me do this to set an example for the school, not to turn you lot into a pro team." He put on a sarcastic voice. "Why can't we be friends? Why _can't_ we be friends?"

Granger burst out laughing.

"What?" Draco demanded.

"Muggle thing," she giggled. Then she chomped down on her lip, watching him closely. In a moment, he worked out that a _normal_ conversation, this would have been the part where he had a go at Muggles.

Not that it wasn't still an appealing idea, but …

"Much as I enjoyed being laughed at," he said pointedly, "I really must insist that you leave me and go find running water with which to wash yourselves and your soiled uniforms. And get some rest." He hesitated, then added, "Well done today, girls."

"Thanks, coach." They beamed back at him, as though his praise was suddenly highest in their esteem. That was a bit of a shock coming from Granger. Draco tried not to enjoy it.

"Run along," he invited, raising his eyebrows. Still grinning like idiots, they bolted up the stairs.

"Merlin," Draco muttered. The day Granger smiled stupidly at him was the day his world unwound and rolled off its axis into the sun. With a mental shake, he took himself off to the dungeons. The repercussions that most concerned him would occur there – within his House. But he was prepared. Slytherin was his territory and he wouldn't be taken unawares by the likes of Gus Godkin or any of the others. Not that he was really concerned for himself. He had a lot of influence in Slytherin House, both from his cemented position as a force to be reckoned with and his family name. However, he was risking every ounce of controlled respect within Slytherin that he had worked to gain over the past six years by pushing this team.

Was the reward really worth the risk?

He stopped short.

Was there to _be_ a reward?

He came to a halt in front of the common room entry and muttered, "_Tangible glory_." The entrance appeared and he was halfway into the common room when he heard raised voices. He froze, listening intently. One could never be too careful amongst argumentative Slytherins, even if you _were_ one.

"I don't care," a female voice said shortly.

"Millie," a frustrated male voice said in return. "Don't be stupid. This isn't about the game anymore and you know it."

"It was never 'about the game', Gus," Millicent said softly, her voice like chilled steel.

"I never figured you for a fool, Mill," Gus said silkily. "You're supposed to be a Slytherin, not a Gryffindor."

As the common room was at the end of a short, dark corridor, Draco was unable to see either combatant. Just as well – he didn't need his eyes to know that Millicent had jumped to her feet. Within Slytherin, being compared to a Hufflepuff was the lowest of insults.

Comparing a Slytherin to a Gryffindor was tantamount to naming someone a traitor.

Draco was therefore surprised when Millicent's deep voice dropped lower still.

"If anyone's the fool, it's you, _Godkin_," she said. "Don't turn your back on Draco or he'll find a way to stick a knife in it. You betray him, you betray _all of us_."

Draco was near enough the end of the corridor now to make out their faces. They were almost nose-to-nose.

"Are you declaring your allegiance, then?" Godkin asked.

"This isn't about allegiance, you half-wit," Millicent returned coldly. "It's about what's right."

"Ooh, aren't we honorable all of a sudden?" Godkin sneered at her.

"No," Millicent said, shortly. "Just smart."

"Fine," Godkin said after a short pause. "Fine. Go that way. But you'll regret it. _Parkinson_ will regret it."

"Between you and Draco, Godkin?" Millicent snorted incredulously. "I'd choose Draco any day."

"It's the last mistake you'll ever make," he assured her, before turning and stomping up the steps to the boys' dormitory.

Millicent stood alone in the common room, still as a shadow save her fingers, which clawed the air at her side convulsively.

"I'm flattered," Draco said, stepping out of the shadows of the corridor.

"Is it, Draco?" Millicent asked, turning to look at him.

"Is what?" he returned, watching her carefully.

"Is taking your side the last mistake I'll ever make?" Millicent said.

Draco bit his lip. This wasn't supposed to be about sides. It was supposed to be about Quidditch. But Millicent was right. In the end, it would never simply be about the game. They were making a statement, Draco most of all. Possibly not the statement he or his girls had intended, but it was too late to take it back now.

"_What did _your_ parents say, Malfoy? When can we expect a new coach?"_

Draco smiled grimly. Ginny's words, voicing vehement distrust a few weeks ago, nevertheless brought up a very good point – a point he had no intention of discussing with anyone, least of all the littlest Weasley. When _would_ he hear from his family? The backlash would come – and then his choice would be cemented. Though his father was in no position to monitor his activities (Azkaban being a bit cut off), his mother might sit up and take notice if enough fuss was made about the team outside of the school. And his aunt Bellatrix …

"I don't know," he told Millicent at last. "I'm not –" he stopped, suddenly unsure. "I don't know what's going to happen," he finally admitted, hating the admission as he did the painfully unsure expression in Millicent's eyes. He wanted it to go away, just as badly as he had wanted his girls to win today. But like their first fateful match, he ultimately couldn't control Millicent's apprehension. Like the game, he could only assure her by _showing_ what he was capable of in the end.

When it mattered.

**)BW(**

Ginny felt the change in Hogwarts' atmosphere over following week. She wasn't sure what it meant or what its significance, but the girls' first match had moved the general populous of Hogwarts in some way. Some seemed even angrier with the girls than before the match. Others (especially some of the girls in Gryffindor and Hufflepuff) seemed genuinely impressed and curious. Ginny didn't receive many questions herself, because no one had seen her play yet, but Parvati (after she was released from the hospital wing) and Hermione were bombarded at every meal by questions and comments from girls up and down the Gryffindor table. Even some of the boys in earlier years were keen to know more. Unburdened by too painful a bias against other Houses, as many of the older boys were, younger students were less offended by the team being intra-House and more interested to know when the team found time to practice, why in the name of Merlin they put up with Malfoy, and how many serious injuries had been sustained by each team member.

To no one's surprise, Ron continued his studied avoidance of Hermione and Hermione pretended (quite convincingly) not to care. Ginny had observed that the absence of her two best friends (Harry refusing pointblank to get between them in any way) had affected a very different series of events for Hermione than had transpired during Ginny's second year. Hermione was no longer an outsider among girls. She had a team full of girl friends now, and her skill on the Quidditch pitch made her something of a heroine amongst many of the Gryffindor girls. Ginny supposed that this only served to anger Ron more. Now he had _two_ best friends who shared a small spotlight that he had only received for a short period during Ginny's fourth year.

Hermione seemed flustered by the attention and though at first she had received it with surprise and no little smugness at Ron's expense, three days of it was more than enough to decrease her pleasure in it and her empathy for Harry.

Ginny, meanwhile, did not have the attention received by Hermione or Parvati, but she did have troubles of her own. She _needed _a way back onto the team, and she still saw no way of convincing her family to allow it.

"It's not like Millie, where it's a life or death decision," Pansy said scornfully, after overhearing Ginny and Hermione discussing the situation after practice one day.

"You don't know my mum," Ginny retorted, but kept her grief to herself from then on. Pansy was right – Ginny wasn't facing familial exile, as Pansy herself or, indeed, Draco potentially were. She was facing a suspicious, war-torn family who loved her enough to overreact to danger.

"Why are you doing this, Parkinson?" she had asked. A week had passed since the first match and they were the only two left in the lockers.

"Why am I doing _what_, Weasley?" Pansy asked irritably, fastening her bra and pulling a blouse on. She fixed her eyes studiously on the buttons, not looking at Ginny.

"Why are you risking being on the team?" Ginny asked quietly, buttoning her own shirt without taking her eyes off the older girl. "We all know that this is more than Quidditch for you and Bulstrode. Why put yourselves on the line like this?"

Pansy met her eyes for a split second, and Ginny was struck by her own total inability to read the expression there. Then the dark eyes were gone, fixed on the buttons again. "If we don't make a choice now," Pansy finally said, her knuckles white, "when will we make it? I'm seventeen Weasley. I can't avoid it forever."

Ginny knew what she meant and knew that she was right.

"Was – was it very awful, telling your parents to bugger off?" she asked tentatively, trying to catch Pansy's eye again. The seventh year scowled darkly at her.

"A right side worse than telling _your_ parents to 'bugger off' will be, if you ever get the old nerve up, Weasley," she snapped.

Ginny returned the scowl. "Ease off, Parkinson."

"Or what?" Pansy smirked. "Anyway, why ask me? You've Draco under your darling little thumb. Ask _him_."

Ginny hadn't yet worked up the nerve to ask Draco, but she couldn't help remembering their last shouting match during the first official day of her exile. He had never answered her question and she had never allowed him time. Now, though, she couldn't help wincing. She had seen his aunt Bellatrix in the Ministry of Magic during her fourth year. She had had more than one run-in with his father. Where were they now, when Draco was really putting himself in a position to disgrace the royal Pureblood name of Malfoy? Lucius Malfoy was still in Azkaban, but Bellatrix LeStrange, Draco's aunt, had since escaped. Ginny assumed that the woman was more actively involved with the Voldemort's movements and probably had, in some way, taken charge of the Malfoy family. It certainly seemed the thing and Ginny didn't credit Draco's mum with having much of a leadership tone to her person. Where was Aunt Bellatrix, then? Ginny wondered it had not occurred to her before.

She did take a moment to give silence thanks that her own family wasn't so wholly unhinged and wildly dangerous. They were a sort of distant wall that she didn't give up hope of mounting and conquering in time.

Unfortunately, she _did _have a stubborn-as-brick brother who lived not twenty feet from her who gloried in her exile. Ginny's thoughts returned from her apprehension about Draco's family to her problems with her own. She knew, deep down, that Ron's hurt was what made him so cruel. She had felt the same way when she had been with the Gryffindor team. She was good, and not to be recognized as such while others were constantly setting records left and right, was no end aggravating. Despite a kind of feminine empathy, Ginny couldn't help her anger at Ron's manner of expressing his displeasure and his inability to help her enjoy something she loved. As the very youngest child in the Weasley family, Ginny had even more experience than Ron in accepting hand-me-downs, not excluding hand-me-down attention.

"Selfish git," she hissed whenever she passed within earshot. Also, as much to spite him as to keep up her own spirits she continued to attend practices both with the team and (rather more secretly) with Blaise. She never flew with the team, so her time with Blaise was important.

"You're getting better at catching, Weasley," he called one day, when she had successfully caught the Quaffle five times in a row. She was so excited that of course she dropped it. "But we still have work to do, I see," he amended, poorly attempting to hide a grin behind a gloved hand.

"Plan to tell me why you're working so hard to help me?" Ginny asked, as she did every day. "I'm nervous about what you think I owe by now."

"Patience, pet," he purred, hurling the Quaffle at her again. "All you owe me for the moment is hard work. Fair?"

Ginny wasn't patient and didn't think it was fair to be kept in the dark, particularly by a Slytherin, but she hadn't much of an argument, so she settled with a glare and an outpouring of energy.

**)BW(**

Due to their somewhat extreme loss to Gryffindor, the girls had a good three weeks until their next match, which looked as though it was going to be against Ravenclaw. Draco wouldn't have told his girls for the world, but he was quite relieved. Ravenclaw hadn't seen a good Seeker since Cho Chang's graduation the year before. In fact, they had now recycled two who had been flattened by Potter and one of the Slytherin Beaters, respectively.

"I hear they're putting up Becker," Jools murmured to Draco on the way down to the pitch. Her gloves slung lazily back and forth in her grip and she limped a bit, still stiff from her healing in the hospital wing. "I had it from my brother. He asked me if I'd ask you if we'd be sure not to let _our_ Beaters run Becker off, because he doesn't think there's anyone left in Ravenclaw fit to be Seeker." She grinned. "I think if he'd give the younger girls a shot they could be quite good."

"We _do _have the monopoly on talented Ravenclaws, don't we?" Draco said with a straight face, watching Adrienne Abbot skip cheerfully along next to Ginny and Patil Jr., the Quaffle tucked jauntily under one arm.

Jools slugged his arm, but ducked her head to hide a grin. "Adri would be a right good Seeker, as well," she said with some professional scrutiny of the Chaser. "She's small and she's got really fast under Parkinson and Hermione."

"Johnson's just fine as Seeker," Draco rejoined as the midget of a Hufflepuff went dashing by to join McDonald and Patil Sr. in a spirited discussion of what Granger had begun terming "permissible fouls". These newer kinds of fouls were the sort that Draco's Chaser's, in particular Granger and Parkinson, had begun developing. They were variations on the most effective fouls that were so subtle that, in theory, they might be missed by a referee. Test runs had gone well and Draco was now drilling Beaters and Chasers in subtlety fouling. _He_ would never call it "permissible fouling" – it didn't do to give Granger too much credit for anything. He _was_ willing to enjoy the irony of Hermione Granger being driven to subtle cheating in order to win.

"Hi, coach." Susan Bones came jogging up on Draco's other side. Her left wrist was still in a brace.

"Bones. You got a head count?"

"Sure – while my fellow captain chats it up with you," Bones rejoined, winking at Jools, who stuck out her tongue. "Everyone here but Parkinson."

"She left the common room with me and Millicent," Draco murmured, doing a quick three-sixty. He didn't see them with the rest of the girls, nor trailing behind. Perhaps Millicent had got cold feet – it _was_ to be her first official day back after a rather extended hiatus, and Draco didn't think she had told any of the girls yet. Her attitude had been more apprehensive than excited since the night she had fought with Godkin. He hoped she wouldn't nerve out and not show at all.

"She might be at the pitch already," Jools suggested. Draco needed a moment to work out that she was talking about Pansy.

"Right," he said. He hoped so. Or at least that Pansy was with Millicent, nagging her into coming to practice. Now that he thought about it, perhaps the girls had gone ahead to the lockers for a bit of quiet before Millicent's reintroduction to the team. It seemed the sort of thing.

"I'm telling you, we already nearly Blatch in every match," Granger was saying as the team neared the locker entrance. "Flying with intent to collide? Isn't Quidditch all about knowing who's bluffing and who's actually going to hit you?"

"If that's true," Ginny muttered mutinously, "then why did I get called for Blatching almost every game when I played with Gryffindor?"

"Hello? Umbridge? Oh, sorry, was that a rhetorical question?" McDonald said, rolling her eyes.

"Abysmal year," Patil Sr. agreed, pushing open the door of the lockers. "Bulstrode! What the devil are _you_ doing here?"

"What does it look like, Patil?" came Millie's gruff voice. "Waiting for you sorry lot to mosey on down. Took your time, you did."

"But – I mean, are you back on the team, then?" McDonald asked eagerly.

"Well, obviously, Nat! She's dressed to kill. I'm so glad you're back!" And suddenly, the girls swarmed passed Draco and began furiously congratulating Millicent on her shining return. Draco was impressed – even Granger and Patil Sr., who had had something like a standing feud with Pansy and Millicent since their first year, grinned and tossed a "good to have you back" to Millicent on their ways to their lockers.

"All right, all right! Settle, girls!" called Bones over the noise. "We're all thrilled to see Bulstrode. But she looks like she's waited ages for us to get here. Let's get dressed so she can start playing again!"

The girls, led by Jools, gave a resounding cheer and began several loud choruses of "for she's a jolly good Beater" while they scattered with more than usual speed to their lockers.

"Where's Pans?" Draco asked, coming forward at last to take a seat beside his reinstated Beater, who was almost maroon and looked gruffer than usual at all the attention.

"Dunno," she muttered with a shrug, ducking her head on pretence of lacing up a pair of Quidditch boots. "She followed me up from the common room, but right after we left you in the entrance hall, she suddenly went funny and said she had something to take care of. Then she took off up the stairs."

"She didn't say what she had to do? It's not like her to be late to practice," Draco said, his forehead creasing. Where could she possibly have gone off to in such a sudden rush? Nothing was more important to her anymore than practice.

"Sorry I'm late!" Pansy came through the door of the lockers and dove straight for hers, digging out her gear and pulling on her Quidditch robes before Draco or Millicent had time to start in surprise.

"Where did you go?" and "Five laps for tardiness, Parkinson" answered Pansy as she vanished inside her locker.

"What's up, Parkinson?" Ginny straddled the bench beside Pansy's locker and sat scrutinizing her in what Draco imagined to be quite an unnerving way. Her sudden appearance and interest in Pansy caught Draco's attention at once. It seemed unlikely, but did the littlest Weasley somehow suspect where Pansy had gone?

"Nothing that would interest you, I'm sure, Weasley," Pansy said coolly. "Mind very much giving me some space?"

"Weasley, come talk to me," Draco ordered. Pansy gave him a nod of what he assumed was gratitude over Ginny's blazing head.

Ginny huffed and grouched her way over to Draco and Millicent. "What, _coach_?"

"What's the word on practice with Blaise?" he asked, for lack of anything better to say. He'd only been helping Pansy out by calling her over anyway.

"What do you mean? It's going okay, I guess," she said with a shrug. She seemed surprised that he would be interested. "I'd say I'm dropping the ball less than half the time now as far as catching goes."

"Give me some credit, Weasley," came Blaise's lazy voice and in a moment he was beside her in the lockers. It was a mark of how comfortable the girls were with boys in the lockers that none of them shrieked. Abbot Sr. and Johnson ducked more discretely behind their lockers, but everyone else carried on changing.

"Fancy meeting _you_ here," Draco said, more sharply than he intended. Blaise grinned disarmingly at him. It was a look that very rightly put Draco on edge.

"Encroaching on your territory, am I?" he suggested quietly, slinging an arm around Ginny's shoulders. "Deepest apologies."

"What do you want?" Millicent asked, with more interest than impoliteness.

"You, actually," Blaise said with a straight face. Draco's eyebrows shot up. "See, Gin and I have been going on nicely with these quiet little practices, but she's just too talented for me now."

Ginny's eyebrows mimicked Draco's and she shook off Blaise's arm so she could give him a properly incredulous look. "Excuse me?" she said after a moment. "You told me just yesterday that I look like a slug on a toothpick when I dive."

"I meant," said Blaise, winking at Draco who had to choke down a chuckle at Ginny's indignation, "that your too talented for me to manage alone. I have a proposition for you, Millie, and I think Draco will agree with me."

"Will I?" Draco said carefully.

"Hey," Blaise said, holding up both hands. "I'm just volunteering here. It seems to me that after her brief absence from the team, Mill's gonna be a bit out of practice."

This was perfectly true, and Draco also decided to give his best friend the benefit of the doubt and not ask him how the hell he knew so damned much about the girls' comings and goings from the team.

"You mean you want me to practice with you and Weasley?" Millicent said with some incredulity of her own.

"You don't have to act like it's the most disgusting thing you've ever heard," Ginny said sharply.

"Easy, spitfire," Blaise said. "You have to admit that it's a little strange."

Strange, it certainly was, Draco thought sourly. If it killed him he was going to sort out why Blaise was so interested in his team. It wasn't natural, and the bloke just wasn't getting enough out of it for Slytherin satisfaction. Draco felt that Blaise's interest in Ginny might still have something to do with it, although their cozy little practices were about to be invaded by an outsider (an uncozy outsider to boot) at Blaise's own request. The pieces just didn't fit.

"Has anyone seen my hair tie?" Granger said, approaching the little group as she tugged her unruly hair high up onto her head.

"Not that it'll help, Granger," Blaise said silkily, offering her an elastic that seemed to have magically appeared in his hand.

"Very clever," she returned absently, taking the band and wadding her hair carelessly up. "Shall I start warm-ups, coach?"

"I want ten laps out of you before you start stretching today, Granger," Draco ordered, transferring his attention from Blaise to his Chaser with an effort. "You and Mill and Pansy are going to work on some refined cheating today." He glanced down at the roll of parchment he had stuffed in his pocket on the way out of the common room. "And be ready to play hard because you're not going to be out there as long today."

"Will do." It was another mark of how much this team changed people that Granger didn't badger him for details. She simply finished with her hair and glanced up at Blaise. "What are you doing in here, Zabini?"

"Nothing to do with your great, star-Chaser self, I assure you," he said lazily. Draco was sure he was the only one who noticed how intently Blaise's eyes were fixed on Granger's surprised face.

"Well, piss off," Granger unexpectedly said. "You make the girls nervous." She smiled pleasantly as Blaise's expression darkened, and then sauntered off to the pitch, snagging her broom on the way and whistling cheerfully.

"Boys just don't get Hermione," Ginny said, smiling and shaking her head as she watched her friend. "Don't screw with her or she'll metaphorically jab you in the eye with a hot poker."

"Or hit you, apparently," Jools murmured in Draco's ear as she followed Granger out to the pitch. Draco glared after her, and then had another mental fight with himself to return his attention to Blaise.

"It's fine with me if Millicent practices with you," he said. "So long as she's at every one of our practices and not exhausted all the time. And as long as _she_ wants to, of course," he added as an afterthought, turning to Millicent with a questioning look.

Millicent seemed to consider a moment, but Draco could tell she had already made up her mind. "Why the hell not?" she said off-handedly. "If it's a bore, I'll quit."

"That's the chipper old spirit," Ginny said sardonically. "Cheerio, Zabini." And she got up and followed the remaining girls onto the pitch.

"Go along, Mill," Draco said, patting her shoulder. "Your new fan club awaits."

"And how," Millicent said darkly, but she trudged off to the pitch, her new broom (fresh from Draco's overstock order) slung over her shoulder.

When Draco and Blaise were alone in the lockers, Draco said, "I don't suppose the fact that you're my best friend would mean that you'd tell me why you're going to so much bother for my girls' glory and honor?"

Blaise grinned. "No, it wouldn't."

"Right." Silence for a moment, then, "If I said I _appreciated_ you helping Weasley … ?"

"Nope. But thanks for asking."

"You're such a git, Zabini."

"Being around girlies all the time has softened you up, Malfoy."

"Piss off."

Blaise frowned.

"Granger getting under your skin at all?" Draco hazarded carelessly, unrolling his scroll without taking his eyes off his friend.

"Since you obviously want me gone …" Blaise said, his lazy smile back.

"Yeah, get going," Draco muttered, willing to temporarily conceded defeat. He watched Blaise go, and swore to himself that he would find out Blaise's investment in the team if it meant chipping away at him for the rest of the year. Then he turned his attention to his roster and finished arranging the girls' names in a new order.

His newest idea was that with a team the size of his he needed to be more personally familiar with the players. From a pocket in his robe, Draco removed his desecrated copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ and a newer book he'd found on the psychology of Quidditch called _The Psychology of Quidditch_. According to the author, Linus Spinmaster, a person's mental process and everyday behavior had everything to do with their performance on the pitch. The personality of a player had everything to do with how they flew. An impatient, clever personality flew more rapidly and made smaller, but more careless mistakes. However, a _methodical_, clever player often flew at tremendous speeds and was able to calculate almost ahead of time where other players would be and what maneuvers to use to avoid them. A combination of three or four general personality types made up each person's core personality and knowing that combination would tell Draco a lot about the styles of his players.

Simple long-term exposure for many hours together had given Draco an understanding of each girl's take on her position, her reaction to the fast pace of the pitch, and her interaction with the other girls. What he didn't know were more subtle personality quirks of most of them. The only way to find those out was to watch more carefully and the talk one-on-one with them. He had a perfectly valid reason to do so: he intended to spend five minutes of this practice with each girl and go over _her_ take on _her_ part in the last Quidditch match. Most of them weren't at their best when speaking of the match and he would get a good idea of any quirks in their personalities that weren't immediately obvious by talking with them about common things.

Unfortunately, the process was going to be a long one, especially because he needed to conduct the interviews himself and couldn't delegate responsibility to Bones or Jools, except insomuch as they would need to run practice today.

An hour later, however, he wasn't sorry he had taken the time. Though he had only got through half the girls, he was already feeling he had a new perspective on the match. He was beginning to understand why Patrice Patil, Granger, and Pansy had not been able to pull off a successful Porskoff Ploy, but why _Adrienne Abbot_, Granger, and Pansy had done so twice. He saw why a Dopplebeater Defense had worked so well for Jools and Patil Sr., but would never do for Millicent. The key was finding a set of compatible mental structures and allowing them only to attempt maneuvers that their psyches were designed to handle.

It might even be possible to develop _new_ strategies based upon those psyches …

Draco glanced at the girls, all stretched out on the pitch in straddles, chattering away about school and practice. He noticed how Jools and Pansy had their heads bent together and seemed to be whispering. He watched Bones, Adrienne Abbot, and Granger argue over "permissible fouls" (they appeared to have moved along to Cobbing). He was pleased to see Millicent speaking with McDonald and Johnson.

He didn't see Ginny.

"Oy, Bones!" he called. Not only was there a standing rule that _no one_ left practice early, but Ginny had as yet never done so.

"Yeah, coach?" Bones looked away from Granger, squinting against the setting sun at Draco's back.

"Where's Weasley?" He realized he hadn't seen her at all since she'd taken her usual place in the stands. He had stayed on the pitch to do his interviews and hadn't paid her any mind.

Bones looked around in surprise. "Sorry, coach, I have no idea. Shall I run and check the lockers?"

"No," Draco said grimly. He wanted the privilege of giving her a talking-to to be his on this occasion. "You and Jools finish stretching and then pack it in for today."

"Sure."

Draco jogged toward the lockers, wondering with less and less suspicion of deliberate rule-breaking what had called Ginny away. Since she and her git brother had really come to grief, she had been appearing more and more persistently at practice and been pouring her energy into practicing with Blaise. She hadn't seemed any less provoked today in the lockers.

Draco pushed open the locker room door. "Weasley?" he called impatiently. Silence and an empty locker room answered and after poking around the showers and the corners of the room, he left through the door that led back to the castle, wondering irritably what his most difficult Chaser was up to now.

He hadn't long to wonder. Thirty meters from the locker room entrance stood Ginny. With her was Harry Potter. Draco bit down a sour expression and several ill-natured remarks and strode purposefully toward them. Potter was saying something, his most earnestly annoying expression on. He seemed to be trying to convince Ginny of something. Ginny's expression was impossible for Draco to see as her back was to him, but her posture was still.

" … I thought you'd be happy about this," Potter was saying as Draco drew level. "It can't be as bad as –"

"You know my family, Harry," Ginny said grimly. She glanced sideways. "Hello, _coach_."

"Weasley," he said shortly. "What do you mean by taking off in the middle of practice?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said with an abrupt bite of sarcasm that took Draco and apparently Potter completely by surprise. "Next time I'll just hang round the stands like a little groupie." She paused, took a deep breath, and glanced sideways at Draco. "Sorry, Malfoy."

"Coach," he said mechanically. He noticed her clutching a bit of parchment in one fist. "What's this?"

Ginny glanced at Potter. They seemed to communicate something silently between them, and Draco had to bite down another flash of sourness.

"Right," Potter said, taking a breath. "I'll see you, Gin. Let me know …?"

"Sure. Of course I will. Thanks, Harry," she called after him. She watched him with an unreadable look until he skipped up the palace steps and vanished through the front door.

"Well?" Draco said, watching her carefully.

She glanced down, not meeting his eyes.

"It's a letter," she said at last. Draco waited. Ginny took another breath. "It's a letter from my family."

**)BW(**

TBC


	10. The First Revelation

A/N: And so, here it is at last. I'm sorry, I know it's not actually that long and I know it's not worth … god, has it nearly been a year?? I'm terribly sorry. This is, I have to confess, a transitional chapter. I looked at this piece today and thought, "God almighty, this is going nowhere!" Many of you have pointed out that there is no Ginny/Draco yet. There WILL be, I swear, but if I rush it, it'll suck. It's very subtle right now, but soon, my friends, very soon! Anyway, I decided today to go ahead and post this chapter and let the real serious development happen during the next chapter, which I've already begun and which should be well underway soon. I won't make promises, but my goal for that chapter is the end of the break. I also have to say a big fatty thank you to my very patient fans and all the kind offers I've received for betas. You're too generous and loving for your own good, faithful readers. I love you all!!!!

P.S. Also, mad author props to whoever can find the "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" reference. It's vague, but I definitely disclaim it. I love you, Douglas Adams!!

P.P.S. As usual, I edited myself and therefore, there are typos. I figured you'd be more interested in reading this than worrying about little errors, so here it is, in all its glorious error-ridden glory

)BW(

**Chapter 10 (or so)**

)BW(

"A letter from home?" Draco said. He blinked at her, wondering if he'd heard correctly and not knowing what to think.

"From my mum, actually," Ginny said quietly, her eyes still glued to the parchment.

Draco waited, but she didn't elaborate. "And?" he said at length. "What does it say, Weasley?"

Ginny looked at him with a crooked smile, the tension easing around her eyes. "I'm scared to open it."

"Because?" Draco demanded. "You already aren't allowed on the team, what's it going to say that's worse than that?"

"Well, let's see," Ginny said sardonically, holding up a hand. "I'm still doing _everything_ with the team _except_ flying." She ticked off one finger. "I'm practicing with Zabini almost every day of the week and I can't see that's it's all _that_ much of a secret." She ticked of a second finger. "And – well, I haven't exactly been writing to any of the family lately." She winced. "I've been sulking at them since I left the team."

Draco bit his lip. She made fair points. Suppose her mum was writing to tell her not to come anywhere near the team? Suppose she was writing because Ginny's git brother had squealed about practice with Blaise? Suppose she was writing simply to yell at Ginny for, as Ginny put it, "sulking"? Draco snorted. He couldn't deny that she was quite the holder of a grudge.

"Well, let's see it anyway," he said boldly. "If she says you aren't to practice with Zabini, it's not a matter you of _stopping_; just a matter of finding a more secretive place to practice."

Ginny's lip twitched in a weak smile. She trailed her fingers along the edge of the roll of parchment, pausing over the twine.

"Go on, Weasley, I haven't got all day," Draco said sharply, reaching out to take it from her.

She narrowed a glare at him and moved the parchment out his reach. She was facing almost directly away from him now, and though he couldn't see the parchment anymore, he could tell by the angle of her arm that she was working at the twine knot. Moments later, it fluttered to the grass and he heard a rustle of parchment. He watched Ginny's head, bent over the parchment and nodding as she read.

After a minute's silence, Draco lost patience again.

"Well?" he demanded, moving at last to face her again and trying to casually catch a look at Mrs. Weasley's scrawl.

Ginny shrugged, her expression bemused, and handed it to him. Draco smoothed the parchment and read it quickly through.

_Dear Ginny,_

_I hope you're doing well. Your father and I are a bit worried, not having heard from you in a bit. I know you are probably upset, dear, because of the line we've taken about Quidditch, and even though I stand by that decision (for the moment) I hope you know that your father and I are only trying to do what we feel is best for you. You're young, and you are in school. Perhaps your brothers (and I mean the twins and Ron) haven't set the best example for you, but you can't know how important a strong education is for your future._

_Having said all that, dear, your father and I have talked and we feel that perhaps we were a bit hasty in simply dismissing the idea of you and Quidditch. Your brothers didn't seem to think it was a good idea, and we thought they would know. But I thought a lot about it and your father agrees that perhaps it is only fair to hear what you have to say about the team. You _have_ played before, although on a temporary basis. Even if we still say no, we always want to know what you are up to and what your interests are. So tell us about the team. Who's on it? When does it meet? Is the Malfoy boy a good coach? Has the team had any matches? What is the mascot and what are the colors?_

_Anything you'd like to say, dear. Remember that I am your mother and I want to know everything._

_All our very best love,_

_  
Mum (and Dad and Bill and Charlie)_

Draco finished reading and looked up at Ginny. She wore a guarded expression and a raised eyebrow.

"Well?" she said. "What do you think?"

Draco felt something stir in his chest. Something dangerous and sentimental and terribly sincere. He cleared his throat.

"Weasley," he said. "Take this parchment and go to your room. Write the best damned letter you've ever written. Make it a bleeding thirteen-inch essay about the greatness of Quidditch. I don't care. You are going to convince your mum and dad to let you on this team even if this letter is all you work on for a week. Do I make myself crystal clear?"

The dam broke; Ginny let forth with the biggest, brightest smile Draco had ever seen. She almost squealed.

"Yes, coach," she said breathlessly, before turning and darting back to the castle.

)BW(

Ginny bolted across the front lawn, feeling the sharp wind through her hair, the cold sunlight in her eyes. She was trying very, very hard not to get her hopes up. It was just a letter. She didn't even know what had changed her parents' minds.

_Not changed their minds. Just … given them pause for thought._

Ginny bit her lip. She didn't believe for an instant they had "thought a lot about it". Her mother was the most stubborn woman Ginny knew. Her mind wouldn't have been changed by long, hard thought, but by some manner of miracle. Could Bill or, more likely, Charlie have changed their minds and talked to their parents on her behalf? Molly and Arthur would know that no letters home from their youngest child meant that Ginny was in a serious strop. Perhaps her father had had a change of heart? Or perhaps Charlie had. She and Charlie shared a love of Quidditch that probably surpassed that of any other Weasley.

Ginny skipped up the front steps, trying to wear her hope out by means of exhaustion. She staggered into the entrance hall, but kept running. Her momentum carried her up the first flight of stairs to the third floor corridor, where she nearly collided with a lone figure who was storming along in the opposite direction.

"Parkinson?" Ginny gasped in surprise, stepping back so that she could see the other more clearly and trying to catch her breath. She was startled to see blatant fury in the other's dark eyes.

"Get out of my way if you want to live, Weasley," Pansy snarled.

Far from fearing the anger of others, Ginny understood it better than almost any other emotion.

"What the hell happened to you?" she asked, standing her ground and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh, nothing!" Pansy raged. "Not a _fucking_ thing. I'm a bleeding laugh riot!" To Ginny bewilderment, she began to pace. Just as quickly, she turned to face Ginny and stabbed a finger at her. "They're a job lot, Weasley. Don't you trust them or they'll go for your fucking throat."

"What _are_ you on about, Parkinson?" Ginny demanded, eyeing the finger waving dangerously in front of her and noticing with some amusement that Pansy's fingernails, usually so carefully manicured, were chewed down so that no white half-moons were to be seen.

"You know damned well! He's your brother's friend, maybe _you_ know what's going on in his twisted little brain," Pansy snapped, removing the finger and beginning to chew at a hangnail as she took to pacing again. She paused, a skittish, angry smirk making a brief appearance as she added, "I take it back. I doubt whatever it is doesn't qualify as a brain. Probably a misplaced, dyspeptic liver or something. Bastard."

Ginny was totally lost. Pansy didn't give her a chance to catch up, but took advantage of Ginny's moment of bemusement and dove around her, stomping away down the stairs. Ginny let her go and began moving again, trying to make sense of what the blazes had just happened. Pansy had been raving about a boy; that much was obvious. But _which_ boy? Ginny supposed that her teammate was referring to a Gryffindor, who apparently was Ron's friend. Well, that was hardly a narrower alley. Ron was a git at times, but he was fairly popular within Gryffindor house.

_Have I seen her with any of the seventh year boys_? Ginny wondered absently, sliding through a hidden door behind a tapestry and coming out in the seventh floor corridor.

Torn between confusion over Pansy's violent behavior and anxiety about her letter to her parents, Ginny found herself in her dormitory without any clear idea of how she got there. She shook herself, remembering the letter from home and, with a heart full of trepidation and unwilling hope, she sat down with parchment and quill, and began to write.

)BW(

Two hours later, Ginny made a strangled noise and tossed a twentieth letter attempt to the floor, where it joined its unfortunate compatriots in a riotous mess.

"Work for Snape?" one of her dorm mates asked cautiously.

"I _wish_!" Ginny snapped. She could hear the girl jump.

"Ginny, what are you yelling about …?" Hermione's voice trailed off. Ginny turned and saw her bushy-haired friend and Parvati framed in the doorway, both eyeing the mess in wonder. Hermione's eyes were wide with admiration. "I've never known you to get this worked up over homework, Ginny," she said at length. "Perhaps you should try color-coded charts. I've always found them to be quite –"

"It's not homework," Ginny sighed, the wind leaving her frustrated sails in a rush. She noted with mildly relieving amusement that her dorm mates had deliberately turned their backs when Parvati and Hermione had entered the room. "Come in," Ginny invited the seventh years loudly. She was feeling perverse.

"If not homework, what is this mess?" Parvati asked, wading her way to Ginny's bed and stretching out on her stomach.

"Well …" Ginny felt some of her earlier giddiness return. Without a word, she handed the much-read letter to her friend and sat back in her desk chair.

Hermione perched beside Parvati and began reading over her shoulder.

"Well," she said when she had finished it, and she and Parvati were looking in bewilderment at Ginny. "I always suspected that Ron had stuck his fat nose where it wasn't wanted. I mean, it was probably Ron who told your parents it was dangerous and rubbish …"

"Typical," Parvati scoffed. She eyed the paper-stroon floor again. "Let me guess. You're writing back?"

"Trying," Ginny said, blowing out a long breath. "I feel like if I don't get it just right they'll go back to thinking that Ron and Charlie are right about me playing Quidditch."

"Charlie wouldn't stop you," Hermione said with finality.

"If not him, it's Bill," Ginny said. "Mum wouldn't take Fred or George seriously about it and I think they like the idea that I'm up to mischief. And Ron's word isn't law with them – he's too close to my age and gets into too much trouble himself. And Percy … well, I doubt he gives a damn what I do."

"Does it matter?" Parvati demanded, a gleam in her eye. "Ginny, you're getting back on the team! Who cares about anything else?"

"Except the small matter of convincing Mum and Dad," Ginny retorted.

"Gin, it's not like the perfect letter is what your parents are looking for," Hermione said. She thought for a moment, then said, "Tell me about playing on the team."

"What?" Ginny said, thrown by the sudden switch in topic.

"Tell me about it," Hermione repeated. "Tell me about what we do and what it's like to be Chaser and about our team mates. Just pretend I've never heard of the team. No, wait! I have a better idea! Just stay right here."

She jumped off the bed and all but fled the dormitory.

"Reckon she's off to get a book?" Parvati asked, as mystified as Ginny.

Five minutes later, Hermione was back. She was surprisingly bookless.

"Come on, quick!" she said, motioning Ginny and Parvati toward the door.

"Where're we going?" Parvati demanded, scrambling off the bed and following Ginny through the door of the sixth year dormitory.

"I've found someone for Ginny to talk to," Hermione said as she led them down the winding staircase.

"Hermione, I don't get it!" Ginny said in annoyance. "How is this going to help me figure out what to write home?"

"Come on!" Hermione said, diving into the common room and then, to Ginny and Parvati's surprise, up the boys' dormitory staircase. Ginny and Parvati followed with difficulty – Hermione was a speedy girl when she was overwrought or excited. She seemed to be a little bit of both at the moment.

"Oh, no …" Ginny began, pausing as Hermione reached the seventh-year boys' dormitory.

"Go on, Gin," Hermione said, pushing her through the door. Parvati followed.

Harry sat on the edge of bed, doubled up in laughter. The source of his amusement was evident the moment Ginny stepped fully into the room. Ron hung suspected in air, and as if by marionette strings, his arms and legs were held gently but apparently solidly against his sides.

"I'll kill you, Hermione!" Ron bellowed, his face purple. "No. I'll dismember you. Then I'll bat-bogey you. Then I'll –"

"Wish _you'd_ never been born when I give you detention _and_ an everlasting nosebleed?" Hermione retorted.

Ron lapsed into a sulky silence, which made Harry hiccup helplessly. Parvati went and patted him soothingly on the back.

"If you want to come down from there, you're going to listen to your sister," Hermione said calmly. "If not, you're going to stay up there and have to eat whatever Harry is willing to feed you by hand." She turned to Harry, who was purple in the face for different reasons. "And you may want to get a bedpan from Madam Pomphrey."

Harry went silent and tears began coursing down his cheeks. Ginny reflected that she hadn't seen him laugh that hard … well, _ever_.

"Look, Ron," Hermione said reasonably. "All you have to do is listen. In fact, _vocalis evictus_. There, now you can listen properly." Ron gave her an unfriendly look as he opened his mouth and nothing came out. Hermione relented a little. "Five minutes, Ron."

"Hermione," Ginny said out of the corner of her mouth. "I don't _want_ to talk to him."

"Too bad," Hermione said stoutly. "You need inspiration for your letter. In fact – Harry, can you get Ginny parchment, ink, and quill, and leave them on your desk so that she can write her letter after she's done speaking to Ron?"

Harry was returning from purple to red and with Parvati's help he made his way to his desk, very deliberately not looking at his suspended best friend as he passed.

"Now then," Hermione said. "We'll just leave you two alone. Ginny, he's someone who doesn't understand the team or its importance to you. Tell him about it. He has to listen and he can't interrupt. He's the _perfect_ candidate for listener. Come on, everyone."

Hermione led Parvati and Harry, who was still leaning on her, out of the room and Ginny found herself alone with her brother. They hadn't spoken without yelling at each other since their fight and, despite the fact that Ron couldn't speak, Ginny felt defensive.

_Talk to him_, Hermione had said. Fine. She would.

In five minutes, Ginny had told him everything and had begun to cry.

)BW(

No one was more surprised than Draco to see Ginny and her git brother walk arm-in-arm into dinner that evening. Weasley was glaring at Granger in a murderous sort of way, but when Ginny spoke to him with a smile, his face relaxed and he ruffled her hair. Walking beside Granger, Potter burst out laughing for absolutely no reason at all.

"Typical," Pansy growled. "Bloody typical."

"What?" Draco said distractedly, craning his neck to see where Ginny was sitting. He needed to be able to catch up with her when she left dinner to find out if she'd written her letter home yet. By the look of it, he thought darkly, she had just been bumming around with her git brother.

"Oh, nothing," Pansy snapped loudly. "Nothing at bloody all. Giggling bastard. I hate men. Argh!"

"The hell is up with her?" Draco hissed into Millicent's ear.

"No idea, but I've offered to trade her out to Hufflepuff for Zacharias Smith _and_ Eloise Midgeon," Millicent said irritably. "She won't stop. I can't figure out who she's going on about, but I really wish whoever it was would shag her so she'd shut up."

"Oh, that's right, Granger," Pansy was muttering into her potatoes. "Just go on smiling and being all pretty."

"That's the first sensible thing she's said all day," Blaise put in from Draco's other side.

"Don't _you_ start," Draco said, holding up a warning hand. What was it with Gryffindors? Daft as bats, and as mad. And yet, they had this hypnotic pull on Slytherins.

_What's their trick?_ Draco wondered, watching Ginny slide into a seat beside her brother and begin loading up her plate with everything in sight.

Come to that, what was wrong with Gryffindors' appetites? Surely that was enough gravy to drown a small country.

"No matter how long you stare at her, she's still going to be there," Blaise murmured. He tilted his head to the side. "That is an ungodly amount of gravy."

Draco sank quickly back in his seat and treated his friend to an unimpressed look. "That's _so_ rich coming from you."

"What, the gravy or the staring?" the imperturbable Blaise asked, grinning.

Blaise left Draco mercifully alone for the rest of the meal, but Draco was restless. Possibly he was absorbing restless vibes from Pansy, or perhaps he was chomping at the bit to know what Ginny had written back to her parents – _if_ she had written. Either way, by the end of the meal, he had made an executive decision.

"Night practice at nine," he said to Pansy and Millicent. Millie looked taken aback, while Pansy was actually distracted from his vicious tirade on people who were too much like prats to notice anything that went on around them.

"What? Tonight?" she said blankly.

"No, a year from tonight," Draco said sardonically. "Pass it on," he added over his shoulder, standing up and heading for the door of the Great Hall. A good session of strategizing and yelling at his team would surely clear his head.

**)BW(**

Ginny's eyebrows shot up when Susie Bones told the Gryffindor girls about night practice, and Ginny had a moment of worry about her Potions homework. She _did_ have a disgustingly massive written exam the next day. NEWT-level Potions was about the most awful thing Ginny had foolishly been suckered into via flattery of her Head of Head.

"I don't know what he's playing at," Hermione was saying in a nervous murmur to Parvati. "We've a Charms quiz tomorrow _and_ a huge project due in Transfiguration."

"Since when have you let school interfere with important stuff?" Parvati asked sardonically.

"Since I wanted to graduate, obviously," Hermione huffed.

"Give me a break," Parvati snorted. "You could probably pass the NEWTS _now_ if you wanted."

Hermione when pink and beamed, ducking her head. Ginny noticed Lavender watching them with a scowl and reckoned that Hermione was, in her own unique way, captivating Parvati in the same way Lavender once had. The difference was that Hermione shared Quidditch with Parvati, a substantially deeper subject than the latest fashion in robes.

"Still, I worry a bit," Hermione said. "I really hadn't meant Quidditch to be so time-consuming."

"None of us really _means_ for that to happen," Harry put in, surprising the girls. He quirked an eyebrow at Hermione. "Is it wrong to say 'I told you so'?"

She made a face at him. "Shut up, Harry."

Hermione's point about homework removed the Gryffindor girls from the Great Hall sooner than usual and by the end of a couple of hours of Potions notes, Ginny was more than willing to attend a late-night practice. She seriously needed to burn off steam.

"Just one more sentence," Hermione begged, as they dragged her bodily from her sheaf of color coded Arithmancy notes at 8:45.

"Don't start," Natalie McDonald said, using Beater strength to pull the seventh year through the doorway. "We all know that one sentence for you means –"

"An entire roll of parchment," Ginny and Parvati chorused. They laughed and even Hermione let out a reluctant grin.

When they entered the common room, they came face to face with Ron, who stood blocking the portrait hole, his arms crossed over his chest. Harry was sitting by the fire, studiously reading. Ginny braced herself and felt Hermione's arm stiffen under her fingers.

"What is it, Ron?" Ginny asked cautiously. "We're late."

Ron swallowed and alternately took a deep breath. It didn't help that suddenly the eyes of most of the common room were on him.

"Er – Ginny," he said. He glanced at Harry. Ginny followed his gaze and caught Harry raising warning eyebrows. Ron's expression puckered. "_And_ Hermione," he grunted.

"What, Ronald?" Hermione asked, her arm still tense.

"I just wanted to say," Ron said, and it looked as though he were speaking through mud. "I just wanted to say … have fun at practice."

They all stared at him, mouths agape. With a sudden cry of, "Oh, Ron!", Hermione threw her arms around his neck and burst into tears. Ron's eyes widened in horror and Ginny thought he looked very much like a man cornered by Screwts. Ginny wondered if he might start saying, "Back, Mione, back!"

"I – Hermione," he said helplessly. Ginny looked at the other girls and grinned. She couldn't help it. Poor Ron!

"Come on, Hermione," Ginny said, prising her friend off her brother with some effort. She noted that he looked considerably relieved, and although she felt the impulse herself, she refrained from repeating Hermione's performance. She looked into her brother's eyes and smiled her brightest. Leaning around Hermione, so as not to cause him further humiliation, she said quietly, "You don't know what this means to me, Ron. Thank you. Very much." Her throat tightened a bit and she pulled back hastily.

"I know what it means to _Hermione_," he said, still looking edgy.

"Go have a nice lie-down by the fire; you'll get over it," Natalie suggested.

"Ginny, please get me out of here," Hermione whispered, hiccupping. "I feel like an absolute prat right now."

"Right, we're off!" Ginny said loudly. "Good day, all. Nice chatting, Ron."

"Never again," he said fervently, beating a hasty retreat to Harry's couch and glowering at Harry, who was almost as purple with mirth as he had been when Ron had been upside down by the ankles earlier that day.

Ginny, Natalie, and Parvati frog-marched Hermione from Gryffindor Tower with some difficulty, but by the third floor, she was calm enough to begin ranting about how silly she had been and why couldn't she behave as level-headedly as Ginny.

"Please," Ginny scoffed. "You know me better than that."

"Better than what?" a voice came from the staircase below theirs.

Ginny saw Pansy leading the Millicent and Blaise down from the second floor.

"Nothing," Ginny said. "What's you all doing up here?"

"Looking for Draco –" Pansy began.

"Ginny!"

Ginny turned and looked back up the stairs. Harry was galloping down to them, something clutched in his hand.

"Harry, what're you doing?" Parvati asked, laughter in her eyes.

"Gin, you dropped this when you were dragging Mione away," Harry panted, handing her one of her old dragon hide gloves. She had been bringing them down after necessary mending.

"Thanks, Harry," she said, smiling and accepting her gear back. "I could have lived without it, you know. I don't even know if I'll be flying tonight."

"Whatever." Harry waved this aside, eyeing his best friend. "Mione, you going to be okay?"

"I'm fine," she told him, swiping at her cheeks in mild annoyance.

"How magnanimous you are, Potter," Pansy cut in. Ginny glanced down at the landing on which the Slytherins had stopped. Her eyebrows shot up. Pansy was almost sneering at Harry, who met her gaze coolly.

"Only toward ladies," he retorted. Ginny stared at him. Harry had only ever really lashed out at Draco with his admittedly cynical side. Now here he was, basely insulting Pansy for no reason Ginny could see. Since fifth year, Harry had perfected the art of ignoring the spite of others. What was happening?

"You wouldn't know a lady if she bit you, Potter," the brunette hissed, stomping passed her fellow Slytherins and down the steps.

"What was _that_ about, Harry?" Hermione began, but Harry was already retreating back up the steps to Gryffindor.

"Blimy," Natalie said, her eyes wide.

"Practice," Parvati reminded them, shaking her head after Harry and leading the way down the steps.

"The hell?" Millicent said, arching an eyebrow at them as they leveled with her and Blaise.

"No idea at all," Hermione said, watching Harry disappear onto a landing above.

"Something's up," Parvati said, "but I defy even Ron or you, Hermione, to get it out of him. He has _that look_."

All the Gryffindors nodded, rolling their eyes.

"What's _that look_?" Blaise asked, falling into step beside Hermione.

"It's the look Harry has when something really big is going on and damned if he's going to let anyone in on it," Ginny told him.

"Except this time I don't think it has anything to do with You-Know-Who," Parvati said conspiratorially.

"No, I think this is a lot worse than You-Know-Who," Natalie said, cottoning on.

"What can be worse than You-Know-Who?" Blaise wanted to know. Ginny noticed that this question, like the last, appeared to be directed at Hermione.

"Girls," Hermione said, with a smile. "And Pansy's wrong. Harry can spot a 'lady', if you will, from at least a hundred paces. He's made it a habit to avoid them."

"And this doesn't bother you, Weasley?" Blaise asked, speaking directly to Ginny for the first time.

She stopped and turned right around to stare at him. "Why should it bother me?"

"Pickled toads ring any bells?" Millicent put in, smirking.

"Hello? I was eleven," Ginny pointed out calmly.

A slow smile spread across Blaise's face.

"What?" Ginny demanded.

"Nothing," Blaise said. "Come on, you lot'll be late if you shuffle around any longer."

"What're _you_ doing here, Zabini?" Hermione asked, skipping lightly down the steps behind Ginny.

"Gonna work with Weasley and Millicent tonight while you lot are officially practicing, aren't I?" Blaise said in surprise, as though this were obvious. "And what had you all hot and bothered earlier?"

"Excuse me?" Ginny could just imagine her friends face and as she crossed the entrance hall and pushed open the front doors, she reflected that she was extremely grateful to be in front of Hermione.

"You were all teary eyed for some reason," Blaise clarified. "And Potter asked if you were all right."

"Harry's my friend; friends do that," she returned easily. "And I had something in my eye."

"Sure you did."

They met the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws of the team on the front lawn and the whole flock entered the lockers at once. Ginny glanced around for the coach and saw him straddling a bench and scribbling furiously on a long roll of parchment. He was seated beside her locker (which had never been removed, in spite of her official hiatus from the team).

"All right, _coach_?" she asked, whispering her locker combination and standing back as it popped open.

"Did you write that letter, Weasley?" he asked, without looking up from the parchment.

"Sent it," she said, pulling her sweatpants and trainers from the locker.

Draco looked up at last. "You _sent_ it?"

"It's what you do with mail, see." Ginny pulled her shirt over her head, trading it for a sport's bra and untangling her normal bra from underneath with the ease of a practiced athlete.

"Don't try my nerves, Weasel," he said. "You sent it without letting me see?"

"None of your business," she retorted, trading stockings and pleated skirt for sweats. "It was _my _letter and –"

"Don't be profoundly absurd!" he cut her off sternly. "You are a Gryffindor and a Weasley and therefore have no concept of what it means to be sly!"

Ginny felt anger rise within her and she had half a mind to slap his face, as Hermione had done years ago. A giggle interrupted her internal tirade and to her amazement, she saw Hermione clamping a hand over her mouth in horror.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," she said around another giggle. "It's just – well."

"He's right, yeah yeah." Ginny sat down in a huff, the wind once again out of her sails, and sulked. She was sulking mostly because she couldn't be angry now. In the old days, Draco had taunted Ron and occasionally Ginny herself about their poor, pathetic family. He had also given them a hard time for simply being Gryffindor, making it sound like the worst possible thing you could be. But what he had just said, she knew, had not been intended that way. Whatever Draco's personal issues were concerning Ginny's family or other Houses, he had clearly put them aside for the purpose of his team. In all the time they had practiced under Draco's supervision, he had never once held a single one of the girls accountable for their blood or their House.

"But it's no business of yours what was in that letter," Ginny resumed at last, looking up at him. "I know my family a million ways you don't and I know what to say to them." She smiled. "Ron reminded me of that, actually. So," she said a bit gleefully. "If I do make it back on the team, you pretty much have him to thank for it." And tying up her trainers, she grabbed her broom and guards and flounced out of the lockers behind Parvati and Patrice Patil.

"She's got you again, Draco," she heard Blaise say, to her immense satisfaction.

"A hundred laps, Weasley!" Draco bellowed.

"Sorry, what was that, coach?" she called back over her shoulder. "I thought I heard you say I had a hundred laps and that's not right because _Blaise_ is in charge of my training now."

"Stop it, Gin, you're getting him all wound up," Susie whispered, with a poorly suppressed giggle.

Ginny laughed outright as her caught up with Millicent.

"Fifty laps, Weasley," Blaise said, materializing beside her, and she had to stop laughing to glare at him properly. He shrugged and grinned as Millicent laughed at her indignant expression. "Hey, I'm going easy. Just wait till you're back on Draco's team again."

Despite her fifty laps, Ginny did feel a huge sense of accomplishment after practice was over and she was showered and heading for the castle. She felt every single muscle as though it were filled with lead and her Achilles heels were tight as bow strings.

But still, what a practice! Millicent was arguably the most physically powerful Beater on the team – she was large and stocky, and had gone to great lengths to build up the necessary strength for the position. Ginny had thus far only practiced with another Chaser, but with a Beater playing against her, she found her challenges greater and her small successes (chiefly, as usual, where scoring was concerned) very rewarding. They lost Millicent halfway through practice to Draco's insistence that she was needed for a team match, but Ginny felt like a new Chaser and felt more determined than ever to come back to Draco's team.

And when exactly had it become Draco's team? she wondered as she followed the others up the steps and through the entrance hall.

Since he had given them something they'd never had before – a _real_ team, _real_ competition, and a real chance to pursue a dream.

She slowed as something else struck her forcibly for the first time. He had also given them unity. Not merely the unity to fly cohesively, but the unity to fight House segregation and the unity to fight the minority of women in Quidditch. Along with those went larger themes – overcoming their differences and uniting as a team, uniting against a world divided by bloodism and close-mindedness, and uniting as a group of women, determined to be respected and valued for pursuing what they loved.

"Gin?" Natalie was staring at her and Ginny realized that she had come to a complete halt. "You okay?"

"I just realized," she murmured, staring around at Natalie, Parvati, and Hermione, who were all that remained of the team in the entrance hall. Ginny thought she could hear echoes of laughter down the dungeon staircase, shadows of smiles down the fourth floor corridor, and the ringing of cheerful voices off the entrance hall itself.

"Realized what?" Hermione asked, watching Ginny with some concern as she gazed around the empty hall.

Ginny looked around at her friends, her teammates, her allies; and smiled. "This is bigger than Quidditch, isn't it?"

The other girls looked at each other.

"Yeah," Parvati said at last, returning Ginny's smile. "Yeah. It's bigger than Quidditch."

The door of the entrance hall swung open again and Blaise came through, followed by a tired, but obviously satisfied Draco. Without thinking, Ginny went to them as another piece of the puzzle fell into place.

"Zabini," she said, and both boys turned to look at her in surprise. She kept her eyes on Blaise. She saw what she wanted to see. She saw the look that had once confused her; she saw his purpose. She didn't know how, but she saw it all there.

"I once asked you why you bothered with us, and you told me that if I didn't know, then you weren't going to tell me," she said in a rush. "Well, I know. It's because it's more, isn't it?"

"More?" Draco demanded. "Weasley, what the deuce are you on about?"

"That's right," Blaise said, ignoring his friend and offering Ginny an impressed smile. "Way to cotton on, Weasley."

"And you're doing it for D –"

"Tut, tut, little Ginny," Blaise said, shaking a finger at her. "Slytherin code: don't show all your cards before they've been dealt."

"But you're doing it for Dr –?"

"Yeah, for Druh, and for Huh."

Ginny's eyes widened and she clamped a hand over her mouth, only just managing not to turn around and gape. "Huh – really?"

"Really." Blaise gave her a gentle shove. "Now run along. Your friends think you've gone mad and you're being entirely too smart for your own good."

"I definitely think you both have," Draco said irritably. "Gone mad, I mean."

Ginny looked at him, and for the first time, saw what Blaise was trying to protect. She couldn't put it into words, but she saw in Draco, for the first time, _something_.

"Thanks, coach," she said quietly, before turning back to her friends.

"Barking," she heard Draco say to his best friend as they descended the dungeon steps together.

"No." Ginny heard admiration in Blaise's retreating tone. "Just very, very clever."

)BW(

TBC


	11. The Second Revelation

A/N: I believe that I also posted chapter 9 in honor of this same friend's birthday. That would set it about a year ago. Only this time, I sent her on a scavenger hunt for a new USB drive of mine that contained the BRAND NEW CHAPTER, which she got a day before you all. I'm sure you understand – she _is_ turning 21. So,

**_HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TWILIGHT! TWENTY ONE ISN'T ANY BETTER THAN TWENTY, BUT AT LEAST YOU GET PRESSIES (and chapters of fics dedicated you _**

This is also an overwhelmed, humbled, and thankful tribute to my loyal readers. You lot would rock the face off any amateur author, and I am no exception. Your understanding, offers of beta-ing assistance, and nudges to HURRY THE HELL UP have not fallen on deaf ears. I read EVERY SINGLE REVIEW and am honored to have inspired such reverence As I've said so many times, you guys keep me and my dreams flourishing and spoiled out of our little minds.

I hope very much that you enjoy this chapter. Not too much plot advancement, but a LOT of character development that you asked for is here. I'm sort of setting up the next chapter for (da na NA!) – the Ravenclaw Match! Also some other important plot points that of course I can't tell you now because it would ruin the suspense

Enjoy and BIG THANKS again to everyone for the encouragement and love!

P.S. Ha! Under two months! Take THAT!

Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.R.'s. Sincerest thanks to the Goddess of pro-fic . . . and also HUGE monumental thanks a release date and mad amounts of new mystery!!

**)BW(**

A week later, Draco was still irritably puzzling over Ginny's words to Blaise. Who the hell were Druh and Huh? Was it code for some bizarre Zabini blood sacrifice? Had Blaise just admitted that he was putting so much time into the team because he liked Granger? Surely not – even Blaise had standards.

Doubly irritating was that team practice had never gone so well. With a renewed sense of determination, undoubtedly due to Millicent's return and the new likelihood of Ginny returning as well, the team prepared for their match with Ravenclaw. Draco had to admit that Granger and Pansy had never flown so well. He didn't tell them that, but he couldn't help mentioning it to Jools one day after practice.

"I've noticed it, too," Jools confided as she dumped her practice gear into her locker. She grinned at him. "And I expect they secretly want to impress you, coach. You set a pretty high standard."

Granger? Want to impress Draco? The idea made him chuckle.

"I expect they just want to win," he said bluntly, watching Jools tie up her hair. "Granger sets a high standard for _herself_. She's top of our year, but her two best friends are better than her at Quidditch. I reckon she's the sort who wants to be best at everything." They might have been comrades now, but Draco could easily remember his feelings about Granger and her little hero brigade _before_ Quidditch had brought them together.

"You're probably right," Jools said. She put her arm through his and led him out of the lockers. She laughed a bit. "Although as a Ravenclaw, I have to admire her academic achievement."

"How're you feeling about a match against your own House?" Draco asked as they crossed the front lawn.

Jools shrugged.

"Dunno." She bit her lip. "It's only that my brother's captain of their team, and we're not very good at competition. It's stupid – we don't even play the same position."

"Like … you don't like to compete against each other?" Draco asked. He didn't have a sibling, so this wasn't familiar territory. He should ask Ginny about how she had squared things with her git brother. Git _brothers_.

"We just don't deal with the turn-out very well," Jools explained. "Some people have fun competing and they can accept winning or losing. Either way, they still enjoy it. Terry and I – only, don't laugh, but I think it all started because Mum can't remember who was born first. It's weird, not knowing if you're older or younger. Most twins do, and it's sort of a part of their relationship. I know Padma's older than Parvati, and it totally affects the balance of their relationship. Terry and I don't." She laughed again. "It so stupid. Any time we compete and one of us wins, it's like, oh, he's older or oh, she's older."

"Kind of like, who's better at something or who's more mature?" Draco hazarded.

"Exactly." Jools beamed at him. "And it doesn't help that we're in the same House. Same goals, you know. Same ambition." She winked at him. "Oh, wait. Ambition's a Slytherin thing, yeah?"

"Not only Slytherin's, apparently." Draco gently pulled his arm away from hers and tucked his hands safely in his pockets.

The thought of siblings made Draco think of his closest relative at Hogwarts. His cousin, Ananda, sat across the common room with some of her fifth-year friends and –

Draco blinked, but his eyes had not deceived him. To her right was Gus Godkin, laughing and smiling like a prize git. Below him sat the rest of the Slytherin team, including his former friends Vince and Greg, who were Beaters. Draco looked away and tried to think about how badly Ananda's Malfoy standards had slipped to be associating with Godkin. The bastard was a weasel, and Draco was pretty sure his cousin knew it. What bothered Draco more than his cousin's poor choice of companion, though, was that Godkin had a mad superiority complex. He only ever spent time with seventh years and his Quidditch team. Now here he was, associating with one of Draco's former team girls; Draco's _cousin_, no less! What the hell was he playing at?

His thoughts returned to Ananda as her high-pitched laugh reached his ear. She'd been edgy and distant since her expulsion from the team and, as Draco didn't deal well with the tempers of others, he had no reservations about leaving her alone. He couldn't ignore the fact that there had been a time when they'd had a laugh together and she had been a fine asset to his team. He also couldn't ignore her sudden interest in Godkin.

_But she's gone, and what she does with other captains doesn't concern me_. Anyway, if he got Ginny _and_ Ananda back on the team, Ananda would only have made it to reserves. She was good, but Pansy, Granger, and Ginny together were going to be the explosive surprise of his team, come a time when Ginny could play with them again.

"Draco?" Millicent was seated beside him at the best common room table, staring across the room in the same direction he was. Draco saw her eyes narrow at the sight of Godkin sitting too close to Ananda, but he also saw a flash of something else.

"Yeah?"

"Have you spoken to Ananda recently?" Millicent absently chewed a fingernail, tugging her eyes away from Draco's cousin and Godkin with apparent effort.

"Why should I?" he demanded, swatting at her hand and returning his attention to their team project notes for Transfiguration.

"Don't be difficult, Draco." Pansy took a seat beside them, carefully balancing a stack of Arithmancy books on the only bit of table not covered in Transfiguration. She didn't spare Godkin or Ananda a glance, but settled her sharp eyes on Draco.

"What are those?" Millicent asked as Pansy settled some parchment atop the books.

"Notes," Pansy said, rolling her eyes and fortunately directing them away from Draco. Pansy often had revelations at Draco's expense and he didn't care to experience one now.

"Are they … they _aren't_!" Millicent looked outraged. "Pansy Parkinson, I thought you had standards!"

"What?" Pansy busied herself with opening her inkstand and laying out a new sheaf of parchment. "It's not a bad idea, really."

"What's going on?" Draco asked curiously, intrigued by Millicent's evident disgust and relieved by a distraction from his reveries.

"She's started color coding her Arithmancy charts," Millicent snorted.

"So?" He quirked an eyebrow in surprise.

"I believe Millie is referring to Pansy's getting the idea from the lovely Miss Granger." Blaise took a seat beside Millicent and swiped Pansy's notes.

"No, stop, don't," the Chaser deadpanned. She glanced at Millicent. "Oh, don't be a prat, Mill. It works, it's a good idea, and it's a right side more interesting than normal notes."

"I liked the good old days when you used to call Granger a buck-toothed cow," Millicent muttered, shuffling her own, black-ink Transfiguration notes.

"Granger was never bovine-esque and she certainly can't be accused of having bad teeth now," Blaise pointed out, tossing Pansy's notes back across the table.

"Do you always have to give your opinion about everything?" Millicent demanded. "You're so bleeding nosy!"

"She's not wrong," Draco said with a shrug.

Blaise shrugged with a careless smile. "Slytherin," he pointed out.

"Anyway, in this instance, my opinion is valid," Blaise said. "Granger may be Muggleborn and she may be a know-it-all, but she is unequivocally hot."

"Oh, go on," Pansy said in disbelief. "I admit, her note-taking strategy is dandy, but –"

"Oy, Elliot!" Blaise called across the common room.

The sixth year looked up from his game of Exploding Snap and his girlfriend in annoyance. "What?"

"Hermione Granger – hot?"

"Shaggable, definitely, especially now that she's come over all sporty," Elliot said, and was promptly pummeled by his girlfriend. "But she's a Mudblood, so no way, right?"

"Muggleborn, you git, don't be crass." Blaise turned back to the group. "See? Random blokes think she's attractive."

"Bully for them," Pansy said darkly.

"Uh-oh, _now_ look what you've done." Millicent winced. "She's got her tirade face on."

"What has got you all riled up recently?" Draco asked Pansy. "We'll just be doing something perfectly ordinary, like eating, and suddenly you're raving on about how some people don't have a clue."

"Some people don't!" Pansy snapped. "Can't see passed the ends of their big noses, even _with_ glasses."

"Thanks a lot," Millicent said, knocking Draco in the shoulder with painful Beater strength. "Now I have to find somewhere quiet to study."

"Steady on, I'm done," Pansy said. Draco noticed that she looked somewhat abashed. She cleared her throat. "Mill, you notice anything funny about Nanda lately?"

"I was just starting on Draco about that before you lot turned up," Millicent said, also nodding to Blaise.

"What've you noticed?" Draco asked.

"Apart from the fact that she's suddenly developed a new, Godkin-shaped limb?" Millicent retorted.

Pansy and Blaise snorted, but the four of them all turned to look again at Ananda. Godkin now sat on the arm of her chair. He was making a show of talking with Greg about Foul #425 (kicking an opposing team member in the knee), but his fingers toyed with the end of Ananda's long blonde plait.

"It's not just Godkin. She's been … _skulking_," Pansy said slowly. Draco, Millicent, and Blaise turned back to her. "Not just avoiding all us team girls, which I could understand, but sometimes, I'll see her and feel like I've caught her at something. Like the other day – I was leaving the Great Hall and she was a little ahead of me. I followed her into the entrance hall. We were the only ones in there for a moment and she looked both ways and took off through some random tapestry. I don't reckon she saw me; I was right behind her."

"I've noticed it, too." Millicent nodded. "But there's something more to it than sneaking. She's being really harsh to the other team girls. Remember, she and Johnson and Weasley used to be close. They hung out during and after practice; they pulled pranks. Well, the other day I was in the library. Ananda was on her own, studying or something, and Johnson went up to her – just to say hi, as far as I could see. Anyway, Ananda must have said something really harsh, because Johnson took off pretty quick. In fact, I think she might have been crying."

That _was_ odd. Ananda might have been hacked off about being forced to quit the team, but she was a pretty loyal friend. Draco had never known her to be disloyal just because she was angry. And she wasn't the only one off the team. Jessie Bentley had been forced off by her parents as well. As far as Draco knew, Jessie intended to try out _any_ time there was an opening on the Slytherin team and he'd seen her having a laugh with a few of his team girls who weren't in Slytherin. She hadn't cut ties and run just because she was temporarily out of Quidditch.

"It's not like Ananda to give up," he said aloud. "I mean, I'd expect to see her practicing on her own. She loves Quidditch."

"Just a thought and don't take my head off, mate," Blaise said. "But suppose she was waiting for a cue from you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're both Slytherins and you're her adored cousin, the great Draco Malfoy." Blaise scratched his chin. "What if she was waiting for you to make a move – I don't know, invite her back on the team or something. Or tell her to screw your aunt and uncle."

"Defy Aunt Mila? If you have a death wish," Draco snorted. "Anyway, she's not old enough to be allowed to choose. If her parents say no, Dumbledore can't overlook it."

"Have it your way, then," Blaise returned with a shrug. "I'm just saying."

"Have you …" Pansy paused, then leaned forward over the table. Instinctively, the others leaned in as well. "Have _you_ heard from you family at all, Draco?"

"No," he said shortly, shuffling through Transfiguration notes. He glanced up, saw all of them staring expectantly at him, and rolled his eyes. "Come on, think about it. Who's there to hear from? Daddy's all locked up; Mother would never tell me I couldn't do something."

"What about your aunt, Draco? Your mum's sister."

Draco met Pansy's eyes across the table and saw a haunted, fearful look in them. Of Draco's three closest Slytherin friends, Pansy was the only one who had met his mother's sister. During a surprise visit to Malfoy Manor two summers ago, Bellatrix LeStrange had taken an interest in Pansy's sharp tongue and intelligence voice. Draco knew that Pansy had been rightfully terrified of Aunt Bella and had gone to great length to avoid her since. Wise choice – if Aunt Bella chose, she could single Pansy (or Draco himself) out as a protégé under the Dark Lord and force them on pain of death to get the Dark Mark.

"Thankfully, no." Draco looked away, hoping his apprehension didn't show in his eyes. He hadn't seen Aunt Bella in some time and hoped she had lost interest in him when his father had been imprisoned. She was a Black, after all. Not a Malfoy.

"Just as well," Pansy said with evident relief.

"So as far as you know, you're fine to coach the team, then?" Millicent asked. "I mean, no one's told you you can't, so you're not breaking any rules or provoking anyone." She didn't add, _Like Pansy and I are_, but it hung over the table nevertheless.

"Never mind about rule breaking," Draco said sharply. He looked his Beater and Chaser in the eye, trying to force these thoughts from their minds. "The important thing for now is to worry about the match. Ravenclaw isn't as good as Gryffindor, but they're intelligent and they know the rules backward and forward. Terry Boot's a good captain and we need a win this time, girls. Agreed?"

"Right." Pansy managed a small smile.

"Winning," Millicent murmured. When she looked up again, her eyes were dark with determination. "That's something I can do."

**)BW(**

It was the last practice of the week and Ginny still hadn't heard back from home. She tried to keep her hopes up, but the longer she had to wait, the more apprehensive she became. It didn't help that the rest of the team now knew, undoubtedly through Natalie and Parvati (Ginny trusted Hermione to hold her tongue), that there was a small chance of Ginny being back on the team and seemed to expect her to be back in time for the Ravenclaw match. Ginny was having a hard enough time not getting her own hopes up without feeling like she might let the others down as well.

At least Ron was back on her side and seemed to be getting on better with Hermione.

"As long as we don't discuss Quidditch or Zabini, it's okay, I think," she had told Ginny in the lockers after one practice.

"What's wrong with Zabini?"

"What _isn't_?" Hermione retorted.

"Come on, Mione. Why should Ron care about Zabini?" Ginny planted her hands on her hips.

"Oh, what do I know about Ron's twisted little mind?" Hermione demanded. "All I care about is that Ron is speaking to me again and we can …" She paused, bit her lip, and looked away from Ginny.

"Can what? Get on with snogging?" Ginny asked.

Hermione snorted. "I think we've established that that can't be an aspect of our relationship anymore," she said. "No, it's not that. It's just … Ginny, promise you won't say anything to anyone."

"Cross my heart," Ginny said immediately, recognizing at once that she was being let into the Dream Team's confidence (a rare occurrence for her).

"We're both really worried about Harry," Hermione said at last, lowering her voice. "With the prophecy and Voldemort still out there. Well, Ron and I need to be there for him. Something's coming and if Harry doesn't have us looking out for him –"

"He'll do something stupid?" Ginny offered, thinking of all the times she had been shocked by a smile or laugh from Harry in the last year. She could count those times on one hand. She thought about the Ministry fiasco in her fourth year. Talk about stupid! In theory, Harry had learned a valuable lesson from that cock-up, but with Harry it was always hard to tell.

"He'll do something stupid," Hermione repeated her words.

"Hermione," Ginny said slowly. "With Voldemort out there … do you think it's thick to be messing about with Quidditch? I mean, Harry should be. It's the only happy thing in his life. But you and I get on okay without it. Shouldn't we be – oh, I don't know. Worrying about N.E.W.T.s so that we can become Aurors or something?" Ginny had been trying to avoid thinking about the war, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

Hermione went, if possible, even more serious than she had been before and looked intently at Ginny. "Gin, this team is more than just Quidditch, or I wouldn't still be here. I would have let it go, just to make peace with Ron, unless I thought it was more. _You_ realized how it's more than Quidditch that night in the entrance hall. It's about unity and breaking down barriers between houses. None of us can escape the war and we need to be strong together. We're doing that on this team. It's like the D.A. We're learning to trust each other and work together. Flying well is a valuable skill, but the bonds we're forming, even with the Slytherins, are monumental. I mean," she said with a sudden laugh, "look at Parkinson and I. In fifth year, we would have cursed each other silly, and _did_. Now, I have her back, even if I don't like her. And I think she has mine."

_It's more_, Ginny thought, and just that thought made her worries about being allowed back on the team seem a little easier to bear. Whether or not she made it back, she could keep training with Blaise and keep her ties with the team. Her friendships with the girls wouldn't wane just because she couldn't fly with them. She could still support them in other ways, and be there if they needed her.

_And the Slytherins really might, if the war finds its way to Hogwarts_, she thought grimly.

Rather than continue this apprehensive train of thought, she dedicated herself to her schoolwork and intense training regime of Draco and Blaise.

"Zabini," Ginny called someone breathlessly to him one practice, turning her broom so that she faced him. He clutched the Quaffle to his chest in preparation for her to try and steal it. So far, she hadn't had much success. She wished she were practicing with Hermione and Parkinson. Sometimes they went easy on her. But no luck – the rest of the team were being drilled into the ground by Draco. She could see them from the air. They were split into three groups. One group was lined up and running in place. Another group with doing non-stop sit-ups, keeping time by passing a Quaffle back and forth to a partner who sat across from them. The third group were all holding Bludgers over their heads. The balls jerked and twisted violently, and the girls holding them were having a dreadful time of it.

"What?" Blaise drew level with her and hefted the ball, raising an eyebrow that said 'while I'm young, kid.'

Ginny pulled her eyes away, grateful for once not to have rejoined the team quite yet. "Can I ask you something?"

"While I'm young, kid."

"Will you tell me what you meant about Druh and Huh?"

"What's there to tell?" Blaise lobbed the Quaffle to her and, in testament to his excellent training, she caught it with almost no fumble.

"Plenty," she said. "I sort of got it, but … okay, I need water and a stretch." She descended to the grass, which was covered with cold dew that felt good against her hot skin. She sat back, uncorking her water and pouring half the bottle down her throat in a swallow.

Blaise landed beside her.

"Fine, but only five minutes and then I want you in the air again," he said firmly. "You haven't stolen a single ball from me and I'm barely doing anything."

"That's fine," Ginny said, straddling her legs and leaning forward. She marveled at the increased elasticity of her hamstrings. Even under Blaise's sole direction, she could see and feel her own strength, flexibility, and Quidditch skills improve in leaps and bounds. It was a sort of transformation she had never really experienced before and it was thrilling.

She looked up at Blaise, who preferred to stay standing, and said, "You're helping with the team because you fancy Hermione. I can't believe I didn't get that before. I feel a bit silly and not a word about it, thank you."

"What?" Blaise gave an innocent shrug and an exaggerated bow. "Not a word, madame!"

"Oh, stuff it," she grumbled. "Anyway, what's this about doing it for Draco as well? I mean, I sort of get that, too, but –"

"You were at the Ministry when Potter was there two years ago, right?" Blaise cut in, finally sinking down across from her. "Stretch your calves, Weasley."

Ginny obeyed, kicking one leg back into a deep lunge. She felt the muscles across the back of her leg strain, and then ease and sink gratefully groundword. "Yeah, I went with Harry."

"And you knew it was really stupid?"

Ginny snorted. "Well, _now_ I do. At the time, all that was important was helping Harry." She paused, cottoning on. "Okay, I think I get it."

"I hope I won't end up having wasted my time like you did," Blaise said bluntly. "I think this is more of a _seems_-like-a-bad-idea-now-but-hopefully-will-pay-off-in- the-end kind of thing." He looked her in the eye, and Ginny was startled by the intensity of his unreadable eyes. Not so much by the intensity as by what he was sharing with her. He wasn't obligated to, and he was taking a huge risk. "You may fancy you know all about Slytherins, Weasley, and it's not worth my while to change your mind. But know that friendship in there is no different than it is anywhere else. During the Sorting my first year, the Sorting Hat told us that in Slytherin we'd find our _real_ friends. I did. Draco's my best mate and I _don't_ want to see him do anything stupid."

Ginny switched legs, thinking back to her discussion with Hermione about Harry. She remembered Hermione saying that she would drop the team if it meant helping Harry. That, for Hermione, would be like giving up Arithmancy.

"I know what you mean, and I respect that," Ginny told Blaise sincerely. "Do you think this will keep him safe?"

"Do you remember when we first proposed the team to him?" Blaise said quietly.

Ginny smiled grimly. "Yeah. I wanted to punch him in the mouth."

"Yeah, remember how he laughed and taunted you and thought it was child's play? Look what he's done from there. He's made you lot a real team with real chances. He's ambitious. If he's set out to make you professional, it's likely he'll succeed, especially with Albus Dumbledore backing him."

"Has Draco heard from his family yet?" Ginny asked, abruptly remembering that she had no solid information about it.

Blaise shook his head darkly. "With Lucius in Azkaban and Narcissa not breathing without him, it's all down to his aunt."

"His aunt?" Ginny repeated. She straightened her legs in a pike and let her weight pull her toward the ground.

"Yeah," Blaise said, looking surprised. "You're a Pureblood. Surely you know –"

"Bellatrix LeStrange," Ginny cut him off, anger exploding in her chest. That beastly woman! Not one of them – Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and especially Harry – had ever forgiven Sirius' cousin for causing his death.

"Right." Blaise bit his lip. "Fortunately, Aunty Bella doesn't appear to be paying Draco much mind right now, but when she wakes up to the fact that he's here, at Hogwarts …"

"She might think of trying to recruit him as a spy for Voldemort," Ginny finished, the anger settling like a weight in her chest. In all this time, she hadn't given any thought to how serious the consequences might be for Draco. She looked sharply up at Blaise. "Does he know all this?"

"You'd better believe it," Blaise said. "But," he added with more confidence, "he's still here and he isn't planning on quitting the team anytime soon. So far, so good." He got to his feet. "Come on, Weasley, this isn't a slumber party. In the air! We have another hour before sundown."

"And what about Hermione?" Ginny asked, straightening up and mounting her broom. "What do you plan to do about her?"

"Oh, that." Blaise waved a dismissive hand. "Matter of time, kid. Matter of time."

**)BW(**

The days leading up to their match with Ravenclaw seemed to fly by and Draco was secretly relieved. The girls couldn't get much better without a match to test them. However, there was still no word from Ginny's family and Draco had a sinking suspicion that she was out for yet another round. He had high hopes for Adrienne Abbot this round, though. Without Ginny to compete against for the third position Chaser in the Pansy-Granger power-trio, she had really been improving quickly and impressively, in both technique and confidence.

Draco had mentioned this to her by way of encouragement. "And don't let the thought of Weasley's return stop you working hard," he'd added gruffly. "You're needed, maybe to play in her place for a bit while she catches up."

"I will," she had told Draco with as much earnestness as Ravenclaws ever showed. "But she's hard to be compared to, isn't she? She's intimidating. It's like she's got it all."

_I don't know about _that, thought Draco, choosing to ignore that Ginny had just entered the Great Hall with her arm through Potter's. She certainly had passion. She was the one who had braved the unknown and come to convince him to coach the Quidditch team. She was willing to practice as much as the rest of the team without the certainty of a potential reward in matches and wins. She was willing to forgive her git brother for treating her badly _and_ she didn't begrudge the rest of the team their chance to make it big.

_Make it big,_ Draco thought self-contemptuously. _Why _am _I thinking big? Where can this team possibly go? Professional – please! School teams almost never make it into pro-league Quidditch. Only a few teams in history started out with students._

And it wasn't as though they would be the only all-girl team, he reminded himself for perhaps the hundredth time. The Holyhead Harpies had already jumped on _that_ bandwagon and seemed to like where they were. Draco had met their captain, Gwenog Jones, at a party given by his father several years ago. He didn't fancy being the one to tell her that her team's claim-to-fame was about to be overthrown. He also didn't fancy being laughed at by pretty women.

To take his mind off his nerves, which he was pretty sure were due to the upcoming match and Ginny's continued state of not-quite-there-yet, Draco took to examining the Ravenclaw team. As the Ravenclaw table was next over to the Slytherins, it wasn't hard for Draco to pick out the team. Most of them sat near Terry Boot, the captain, anyway. Draco ran his eyes over the two Beaters. Edge Crimble and Benny Diggle may have had the world's most ridiculous names (and Draco had invested serious energy in constructing mocking ditties for the amusement of the Slytherin common room at large), but they were no joke on the pitch. Draco had seen them flying drills shortly before one of his girls' practices last week and the sight had forced a grudging respect for Boot's training and choice of players into the back of his mind.

Moving on, Draco turned his attention to the three Chasers, all of whom were bent over notes for some class and all of whom, coincidentally, wore spectacles. Ravenclaw's Chasers were girls, but like _Draco's_ girls, they were deceptively small and fragile-looking. He'd seen them play in other matches and knew that they weren't to be underestimated. Eva Black, Melba Jones, and Mara Bennett were a seamless team but for some weakness. Draco grinned to himself at the notion that their shortcomings were very similar to Ginny, Pansy, and Granger's. Each had one, which was adequately supplemented by the other two. The one advantage, Draco thought smugly, was that his girls were simply a bit better.

He skimmed over the Seeker, Jack Becker. He and Betina were evenly matched – Draco wasn't worried.

When his eyes landed on Captain Boot again, they paused. Terry had Jools on his right and the two seemed to be talking amiably about something. Draco wondered how the approaching match was treating their relationship and decided that, for now, they looked all right.

Without warning, Jools looked up and met Draco's eyes. She looked surprised to see him watching her, but then her face split in a wide, bright smile. Draco looked hastily away, uncomfortably aware of what she had probably been thinking.

He kept his eyes on his plate for a safe few minutes before taking a cautious peek at the Gryffindor table. Granger and Ginny were facing him. Ginny looked pensive; Granger looked completely mad. Her hair was up in a tangled knot atop her head, with what looked to be half the quills in Hogwarts stuck in. She was scribbling on a piece of parchment and glowering at anyone who spoke to her.

"Mad nerdy types really do something for me," Blaise murmured from Draco's side. His chin rested on his fist and he grinned when Granger snarled at Ron Weasley, who had foolishly prodded her precious parchment with his fork. "Bet it's our Arithmancy homework."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I've never seen you take so long to shag a girl, Blaise. What's the hold up?"

"She not ready," Blaise said simply.

"Not ready for what?" Draco asked, his thoughts now turning entirely away from Quidditch. He was amusedly waiting for his friend to say, 'A bit of Zabini hotness' or some other trite nonsense.

"To entertain the idea of someday, just maybe, fancying me back," Blaise returned. Draco threw him a sideways glance. Though his friend seemed stoic enough about it, Draco saw a trace of sadness in his face.

Draco twisted his fork in his fingers, rather at a loss to respond to this unusual melancholy.

"Go on," he said at last. "Granger'd be completely daft not to like you."

"Why, though?" Blaise said, his tone still determinedly matter-of-fact.

"Well," Draco said, surprised. He hadn't expected a pop quiz on the Merits of Dating Blaise Zabini. "I mean, I reckon you're quite attractive. To girls. Um … you're quite smart?"

"Oh, shut up, Romeo, I wasn't fishing for compliments." But Blaise had a small smile on his face. Draco decided it was an improvement and let the insult go.

Draco's attention, no longer distracted by Blaise's crisis of character, was called back to the Gryffindor table by a single owl, which swooped down and crash-landed on Ginny's plate. For one breathless moment, Draco thought the letter might be for Ginny. He had visions of her opening it, gasping, beaming, and shouting in tones of joy, "I'm back! I'm back!"

Before his tired brain could carry on with Ginny accepting roses from the team and being carried from the hall on everyone's shoulders, he saw Ginny motion Potter over. He looked surprised and reached for the letter on the owl's leg. The owl nipped savagely at his fingers, and he yelped, eliciting a laugh from his housemates and a healing charm from Granger.

"Is that Hera?" Draco muttered. The massive black creature looked like Pansy's beast, who was known to have a bite and a half, and a temper to match.

Potter sat back down, but Draco could see his face. He tore open the parchment, took one look, and crumpled the paper in his hand, beat red. Granger and Ginny seemed to be trying to get him to tell them what was wrong. His lips were pursed and he stood and left the Great Hall, ignoring the questions of Ron Weasley and other seventh years at the Gryffindor table.

"Mad as hatters," Blaise said, staring bemusedly after Potter.

"I wonder what that was about," Millicent said, turning back to Draco and Blaise. "Speaking of mad, have either of you seen Pansy tonight?"

"Nope," Blaise said, starting in on his potatoes again. "Either she's color-coding her notes or she's off sulking about whatever-it-is-that's-turned-her-mental-except-we-all-know-what-it-is, don't we?"

"Are you kidding?" Millicent began cutting her meat into small pieces. "I've been watching her for the last few weeks. Unless she's in love with Granger, I don't know what the hell's up."

"You're serious?" Blaise looked back and forth between them. "You really have no idea what's riled Pansy up so much lately?"

Honestly, Draco hadn't been paying Pansy that much mind. Or at least, no more than he'd been paying his other team girls.

"You're both daft," Blaise went on, shaking his head.

"So what _is_ up with her?" Draco finally asked.

"If you two can't be bothered to take an interest in your friends, you don't deserve to know," Blaise said loftily, daintily slicing his own roast into pieces.

"Go on, Blaise," Millicent whined. "I _have_ to know – she's driving me batty!"

"You're a disgrace to Slytherin," Blaise said. "It's blindingly obvious."

"Oh, look, Weasley's leaving," Draco drawled over his friend's incomprehensible whittering, watching Ginny make for the door of the hall alone. "Must dash."

"Likely story!" Blaise called after him. Draco ignored his friend and caught up with the redhead just outside the double doors of the entrance hall.

"Weasley!" Draco called, jogging to catch up.

Ginny didn't even turn round, but said in surprise, "What, _coach_?"

"Nothing really," Draco admitted, falling into step beside her. "Just had to get away from Blaise and his weird sixth sense."

"Sixth sense?" Ginny threw him a sideways glance. "I would say Zabini's claim on the first five is slippery at best."

This startled a chuckle out of Draco, which he covered ineffectually with a cough. "He's quite sharp, but sometimes he can be unbearably smug."

"Gosh, where have I seen _that_ before?" Ginny asked innocently.

Draco scowled. "At the rate you're going, when you get back on the team you're not ever going to able to play because you'll spend be spending the rest of your Quidditch days doing laps."

"Oh, coach, did you think I was talking about _you_?" she said sweetly, skipping up the steps.

"Your subtlety is like a cannon, Weasley – loud and to the point," Draco retorted. He paused. "So – any word from your parents?"

"Not a peep," Ginny said with what sounded to Draco like studied calm. "But I wasn't really expecting anything. It wasn't that long ago that I sent them the letter, was it?"

"No, I suppose not." Draco bit his lip. "Only, the match with Ravenclaw is not at all far away, you know."

"Oh, really?" Ginny's voice was rather colder. "Forgive me, _coach_, but consider how much worse this is for me than for you. You still have enough Chasers to play – "

"They aren't _you_, Weasley!" he snapped before he realized what he was saying.

"What?" Ginny actually stopped walking. So did Draco, but he couldn't look at her.

"You heard me," he muttered.

"Yes, I did." Ginny scuffed her foot against the stone of the landing on which they stood. "Um … Draco?"

He looked up sharply at her use of his name.

"It's just …" she looked rather at a loss. She scuffed her foot some more.

"Spit it out," he said impatiently. She was making him nervous.

"I'm not that good!" she exploded, stamping her foot for emphasis. "Not – that – good! Why are you so fixated on my getting back on your team? Adrienne's great, Hermione and Parkinson are like their own little Dream Team!" She paused for breath, and Draco was startled at the resolve in her voice. She really didn't think she was that good. He waited and after a moment, she met his eyes with an over-bright stare. "You make me want this so badly it hurts. I am _tired_ of hurting for this."

Draco could think of absolutely no response to this. He was still trying to wrap his brain around it. How could she not know how good she was? asked one part of his brain. How can I be making her want this? another wanted to know. He wasn't sure what to say aloud and what to muddle over himself. He couldn't help staring back at her, waiting for her to laugh it off.

"Don't you see, Draco?" she mumbled, clearing her throat and looking away. "I watch you lot every single day. I spend time with my friends on the team every single day. I practice with Zabini every time the team practices. And usually, I do all right. I can sort of hope, you know? And then I'll see you laughing with Jools. Or I'll hear you compliment Hermione on a nice reverse pass. Or you make them do a million sit-ups. And," she paused, swallowing hard, "and I realize that I'm missing something huge. No matter how hard I try, there's something you're sharing with them that I just can't belong to right now." She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I love Quidditch. And I love the team. And most of the time, loving it all is enough. But until I'm _playing_ again, part of me is sort of dead."

Draco was unnerved by the emotions swirling deep in his chest. He wanted to do something to change that look on her face. He wanted her to look happy or irritated or something easy. Something he was familiar with. He wasn't familiar with the husky voice, the sorrowful expression, the longing eyes.

"Listen to me," Ginny said, looking disgusted. "I sound totally pathetic."

"No."

His surprise at his reaction was mirrored on her face. He felt his face warm a bit.

"Hey, I know what it's like to love it and not be able to do it," he told her, rather more sharply than he meant to. "I watch you lot flying every day and even though I love it, and you're all going to go very, very far, I'm still not up there, am I? I can't be anymore."

Ginny looked up at him again, and some of the despair went out of them. "It must be hard. With your injury and having been an amazing Seeker before and everything." Suddenly, her hand shot out and caught his. "I think you're brave, Malfoy."

"Brave?" He snorted, not sure whether her words or her hand gripping his were more of a shock.

"Brave," she repeated firmly. "You've given us so much. You can't deny that you're taking a huge risk. You're breaking gender and House barriers in a way that no one has done in a long time."

"You said it yourself, Gin." He felt rather helpless and rather like he had no idea who was speaking for him because surely he, the great Draco Malfoy, wouldn't be making these concessions of his own free will. "You all started it."

"But _you're _going to finish it," she said, with something so akin to trust in her voice that Draco felt a panicky desire to flee for his life. He might just have done, had not the sound of hushed shouting reached his ears at that moment.

"What's that?" Ginny asked, dropping his hand and following his gaze up the stairs.

"Dunno." Draco moved up the flight of stairs that led to the fourth floor, following the sound of the noise. Ginny was right behind him.

As they neared the fourth floor corridor, Draco began to make out actual words.

" – isn't right!" a girl's voice, still too faint for Draco to hear who it belonged to, drifted in from the passage.

" – didn't hear you objecting tonight!" a boy's voice retorted. "If you didn't like it, why send me the stupid owl – "

"That's Harry," Ginny whispered from behind Draco.

They stopped just outside the fourth floor doorway. The voices were getting nearer.

"That's not the point!"

Draco was surprised. That was _Pansy_!

"What _is_ the point?"

Definitely Potter's voice.

"It's not about Houses – don't look at me like I'm shallow!" Pansy's voice was sharp, but she was staying hushed. "_I'm_ the one on an interhouse Quidditch team. You're best girl _hates_ me, Potter. You're the archnemesis is my best friend. It's not right!"

"My archnemesis is actually a bit more frightening than Malfoy," Potter said dryly, but he sounded angry. "Anyway, you're willing to tolerate Hermione for the sake of your precious Quidditch team." There was a pause, and then Potter said quietly, "Am I not important enough for you to make the same exception?"

Draco suddenly realized that Ginny was gripping his arm, her eyes wide with interest as she listened to the exchange.

"Maybe you're not," Pansy said defiantly. Draco could almost see the hitch of her chin.

"But maybe I _am_." Their footsteps stopped suddenly, and Draco realized that they were dangerously near his and Ginny's staircase. He caught the hand gripping his arm and tugged. The redhead got the message and followed him back down the steps. They moved as quietly as possible, and Draco decided that however curious Ginny might be, she also felt that being caught up there probably meant a sound hexing and possibly lots and lots of yelling.

Their escape might have gone smoothly had their staircase not decided it was time for a move. It jerked free of the wall and creaked its way across to the fifth floor corridor. Draco pulled Ginny down beside him, hoping rather uselessly that the thick gray stone of the staircase would hide them from Pansy and Potter's sight.

"Ginny?"

Potter was squinting at the two of them from the now-gaping dangerous drop-off of the fourth floor entrance.

"Oh, thank you finding my quill, Draco!" Ginny enthused, nudging him soundly with her toe.

"Er – anytime … Weasley," he said loudly, tugging her up and quickly releasing her hand. He tried a casual glance across the cavern at Potter and Pansy. "Oh, Pansy! I didn't see you there!"

"Draco, I'm going to kill you!" she shouted, clearly not falling for his pathetic attempt at Slytherin cunning.

"Surely that won't benefit anyone," Draco tried to say reasonably. "Oh, would you look at the time! Weasley and I have a … er …"

"Pressing engagement with a broom closet on the sixth floor," Ginny said brightly.

Draco blanched, staring at her with something akin to horror.

"_What_?" said both Potter and Pansy in tones of greatest shock.

"Oh, yes … that broom closet," Draco said, trying very hard to sound excited about it. "So dark and … small. Come on, Weasley, not a moment to lose." He pulled her up the steps and they nearly ran up the remaining steps the fifth floor corridor, at which their staircase had finally arrived.

"Ron's going to kill you, Ginny!" Potter called, sounding utterly gobsmacked. Draco reflected that at any other time, he might have been delighted at the panic in Potter's voice.

Unfortunately, when they reached the top of the staircase, they did not find an empty corridor.

They found Jools.

"Planning on snogging your way back onto the team, are you, Ginny?" the captain said.

"It's not what it looks like –" Ginny began.

"Save it," Jools said harshly. She disappeared through a tapestry.

**)BW(**

Ginny wasn't sure how she made it back to Gryffindor Tower that night. She hadn't said a word to Draco, but slipped away while he stared at the tapestry, his expression unreadable. She took every possible detour to avoid seeing anyone. Fortunately, most people were still at dinner and Harry wasn't back from his tryst with Parkinson.

_Well, at least we have _that_ mystery solved_, she thought dully as she climbed the steps to her. _Parkinson's been sneaking off to snog Harry and Harry's moods lately are probably reflecting how good of a snog he's had_.

She flung herself onto her bed, pulling the hangings shut. She pillowed her arms under her head and toyed with a loose thread on the bedspread. She replayed the scene with Jools a hundred times in her head. She supposed this had solved another mystery. Jools had always spent an inordinate amount of time with Draco, but Ginny had always assumed it was because she was captain.

_And does_ Susie_ spend time with them as well_? Ginny thought. No. Definitely not. Susie was the voice of calm and reason amongst the girls, but she seemed to prefer working with the girls directly, rather than working through Draco the way Jools often did.

Ginny groaned and rolled over, burying her face in her pillow. Their match with Ravenclaw was days away and now, because Jools assumed that Ginny and Draco really had been off to snog in a closet somewhere, there was a division in the team.

_Except not really_, Ginny thought darkly. _I'm not on the team. All I have to do is practice with Blaise and avoid Draco and they can get on with it. Anyway, it's not like the rest of the team knows yet._

A sudden thought occurred to Ginny. Had anything happened between Jools and Draco? She had sort of assumed not, given that Draco seemed to take the team seriously and had also sort of shrugged off Jools' advances. But what if something have been happening on the sly? Suppose they really had been doing something?

Ginny felt her chest tighten. Surely not! Surely messing around with team girls wasn't allowed. There must have been a rule book somewhere.

_Why am I reacting like this_? she wondered. _What the hell do I can who Malfoy's snogging?_

_I _do_ care who Malfoy's snogging_! she realized in horror.

"Argh!" she bellowed in the empty room, unable to determine how she was feeling but knowing that she didn't like it. She sat up, rubbing her eyes and feeling a headache coming on. This was too much – on top of school, Quidditch, and waiting for her stupid parents to make up their stupid minds, it was too much to be thinking about Draco Malfoy as well!

And it wasn't _just_ thinking about Draco anymore. Before tonight, she had thought of him with a mixture of tolerance and mild annoyance. He _was_ an annoyance! He still pushed every button Ginny had and he was unbearably pushy about getting her back onto the team.

Now, though … when Jools had seen them together, Ginny should have laughed it off. Instead, she had felt a panicky sort of desire to deny it all.

A sudden laugh escaped her as she realized that she had momentarily forgotten about Harry and Parkinson's stricken faces. She bit down another unholy and rather hysterical giggle. She should have guessed! Harry's weird moods were normal enough, but they didn't really match up with his "Voldemort is coming – the little voices in my head told me" moods that Ginny was quite familiar with. He had spent the last month in a funk of preoccupation, not doomsday gloom.

And Parkinson! The usually-collected seventh year had been an explosive mess lately. One minute she was talking and laughing with Bulstrode or Blaise – the next she was fuming and muttering to herself about gits who were absolutely daft, etc. Ginny was actually rather ashamed of herself that she hadn't figured out before now. She remembered when Harry had brought her her forgotten Quidditch gear and had exchanged high words with Parkinson for no apparent reason. She remembered even before that when she'd been rather in a strop over Draco and had nearly run an equally irate Harry down on the stairs.

The stairs. She was back to Draco and Jools again. Just great!

With a sigh, she stretched out on her bed again, staring moodily at the ceiling. Almost immediately, something poked into her back.

"What the hell …?" She sat up, fishing behind her and coming up with a roll of parchment. Surely that hadn't been here a moment ago – she would have seen it. The parchment and twine were nondescript. Ginny unfolded it.

_Dear Ginny,_

_I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a rush at the moment. Your father and I are off to Romania. Charlie's been hurt and, while I'm assured by the Reserve's medical staff that it's a perfectly routine injury, I want to be with him while he's healing. Your father has been working too hard lately and needs a vacation, so I marched right into his office and told his department so. They didn't seem to mind, so I'm taking him with me for a couple of weeks. If you need to reach us, it will probably take a little longer. Please do write to us, dear. We worry when we don't hear from our babies._

_One other thing. Your father and I read your last letter, and have since heard a little bit more about the your Quidditch team. A reliable source has told us a bit more about what the team stands for and how, even though it _is_ Quidditch, it's about more than just Quidditch. Your father and I spoke about it last night and decided, who are we to hold you back for doing great things? In your own unique way, you and your teammates (and, I hear, that young Malfoy boy) are battling some dark forces in your very own school._

_Your father and I are proud that you're a part of something new and progressive. We would like very much to come to the next match you're in, if we can._

_All our love,_

_Mum and Dad_

Ginny stared. And stared.

"The team," she whispered. She ran her hand along her mother's neat lines. "Come to the next match I'm in …"

She buried her face in the parchment and burst into tears.

**)BW(**

TBC

(I really, really wanted to continue from here, but this is really the PERFECT cut-off! LOADS to come in the next chapter!)


	12. The Second Match

A/N: Thanks to all who waited since checks nonexistent watch on wrist February for this chapter. It is for you that I have stayed up till 2am the morning I start my new job. I really hope it was worth the wait – it's super long and, thus-far, my absolute favorite chapter. I also did more editing than normal, so it ought to be in pretty good shape, plot-wise and technical-wise.

Thanks again for all the fantastic reviews, the patience, and the encouragement. You're all mind-blowingly cool and you really, really, REALLY keep me writing.

In other news, all the Shirley Temples and respective cherries in this chapter are dedicated to my beautiful friend Twilight, whom I miss like I would my arm. If I were missing it. Which I'm not. But I couldn't have written this chapter without my arm, so … draw what conclusions you will. Love you, Twi-fiz! 

Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.R.'s. Sincerest thanks to the Goddess of pro-fic . . . and also HUGE monumental thanks for the beautiful final chapter of Harry's real story. It got me to Chile and back again and I can never thank you enough!

**)BW(**

Ginny didn't know how long she lay on her bed, alternately crying and reading her mum's letter.

When at last her breathing slowed and her cheeks began to dry, she knew immediately who should be the first to know. She pushed off her rumpled bed and through the hangings, the parchment still crumpled and damp in her fist. A few of her year mates were curled in their beds, apparently working on homework, and turned their faces from Ginny as she passed. She barely noticed as she trotted out of the dormitory and skipped down the stairs. If she hurried, she could still find Draco in the main part of the castle.

She was so preoccupied that she nearly mowed Harry down on her way out of the Gryffindor common room. She blinked up at him and noticed that his hair was mussed, his lips were almost purple, and his glasses hung crookedly on his face.

She hiccupped a laugh.

"Oh, shut up," Harry muttered, adjusting his glasses and trying to adjust his hair.

"I didn't say anything," she said, crossing her arms and tucking the corners of her mouth down.

Harry eyed her, his cheeks turning pink. "And where were you and Malfoy off to?" he demanded, crossing his own arms.

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"He caught up with me in the entrance hall and we had a little walk," she said. "We were talking about how I still hadn't heard from my parents –" she broke off, swallowing hard.

"What is it, Gin?"

Ginny met his eye with another choked laugh. She held up the hand with the crumpled parchment, stared at it a moment, and offered it to him.

"What's this?" he asked, taking it and pulling it gingerly open. Ginny watched his eyes dart back and forth over her mum's letter, and found herself biting her lip.

When he finally looked up, he was grinning. "I knew it!" he beamed.

He sounded so certain, so absolutely confident in the answer. Ginny burst into tears. She felt Harry's hand on her shoulder.

"You're happy for me, then?" she asked, when the tears slowed. A watery smile tugged her lips as he patted her shoulder.

"Of course," he said uncomfortably. "I know how important this is for you. And let's face it," he added, winking, "you're too good to be a reserve for Gryffindor. You deserve the best, and if this team is that – well, you have my blessing, if you want it." His squinted at her, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Are _you _happy? Why're you crying?"

Ginny gave another hiccupping laugh. "You're daft, of course I'm happy," she said, wiping the remaining moisture from her cheeks. "Tears of joy, and all that."

"Oh – good," Harry said, shifting from foot to foot.

Ginny watched him fidget. "Harry, why wouldn't I be happy to be back on the team?" she asked. "I've wanted nothing else since I left."

"Oh, well." He paused. "I just – I _thought_ that's what you wanted, but – "

"_You_ thought?" Her eyebrows shot up.

"I mean, when I wrote to – " Harry broke off, clamping his mouth shut. His eyes were wide behind his glasses.

"You mean," she said slowly, "_you_ were the one who wrote to my parents and told them the team was a good idea?"

Harry suddenly became very interested in the wall behind Ginny. He scuffed his foot on the carpet and his pink cheeks went a bit red.

"You weren't to know," he mumbled. "I asked your mum not to say anything."

"It wasn't my brothers," Ginny muttered, trying to take it in.

"I knew none of them would say anything, especially after Ron," Harry said, his eyes now on the carpet.

Ginny flung herself around Harry's neck. "Oh, Harry, _thank_ you!" She couldn't say anything else. "Thank you, thank you, _thank you_!"

Harry patted her back awkwardly, probably wondering if she had gone mad. "You're not angry, then?" he asked her shoulder.

Ginny pulled back in astonishment. "How could I possibly be angry?" she cried. "Harry, what you did for me – and it means so much, because you don't owe me anything and you're not even my brother!"

"Not _officially_ your brother," Harry corrected. He pulled away with an expression that reminded Ginny of a cornered puppy.

"But why?" she asked. "I mean, not about being my brother. I mean, I'm glad you feel that way, but for the record, I've got too many brothers all ready. Let's stick with you being my seriously cool friend."

"Seriously cool," Harry repeated, stuffing his hands back into his pockets and offering a crooked half-smile. "I think I can handle that."

"All right, then," Ginny said, stepping back. "But what made you do it, Harry? Write to my parents, I mean?"

"Well, I could see that you were unhappy, couldn't I?" Harry scratched his nose, a sure sign he was trying to think of just the right thing to say. "I mean, I saw you sitting with Malfoy in the stands at the match with Gryffindor and I could tell how upset you were that you weren't up there with the other Chasers. And we talked a while ago. Remember, you were angry about something and I was angry about something – "

"I never did get to find out what _you_ were angry about," Ginny cut in, raising an eyebrow.

Harry went red again, but fixed her with a quelling eye and said, "You know _now_, don't you?"

Ginny giggled, remembering Harry and Parkinson's expressions when they had seen Ginny and Draco on the stairs.

"How did you and Parkinson _ever_ – "

"Hey! I thought we were talking about my generous, caring nature," Harry cut in defensively.

"Let's talk about how generous and caring you are with Parkinson – " Ginny began, then skipped out of reach.

"You really _are_ a little sister," Harry retorted, by way of an insult.

"Practically _your_ little sister," Ginny grinned. "Oh, you lucky boy."

"What about you and Malfoy?" Harry demanded. Ginny could almost see him squirming at the idea of discussing Parkinson with her.

"What about us?" Ginny sing-songed.

"You're not – I mean you're not _really_ – " he broke off and wrinkled his nose.

Ginny suddenly remembered Jools, who thought exactly the same thing, and winced. "No, of course we're not _really_," she said quickly. "We just said it because –" she stopped. Why _had_ they said it?

"Oh." Harry bit his lip.

"I mean – Harry, he's the _coach_," Ginny said helplessly. "And he's_Malfoy_."

Harry gave her a tiny flash of a smile. "He _is_ Malfoy," he agreed. "Who you Bat Bogied in fifth year."

"Yeah, and don't think he's forgotten," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "Every chance he gets, it's 'Weasley! A hundred thousand laps!'."

Harry laughed. "You do an uncanny impression."

"Do I?" Ginny was delighted. "Try this: 'Oh, no, Ginny. There's nothing going on between me and Parkinson. I snog _all_ the Slytherins, just for revenge, you know. Teach them to mess with Gryffindor – '" She dived for the portrait hole as Harry lunged for her, his face redder than Ron's Weasley jumper.

"Tell me about what's up with you and Parkinson, and I'll never tease you again!" she called over her shoulder, diving through the portrait hole and nearly knocking Hermione over.

"Nothing! I'll get you, Ginny Weasley!" Harry bawled, overwrought with worry that Ginny would spread the word.

"I won't tell anyone oh, hello, Hermione!" Ginny cackled with unnecessary wickedness.

"Really, Harry!" Ginny heard as she skipped down the seventh floor corridor. "You think I didn't_ know_ you were sneaking off? Tell me everything, before Ron comes back from the library."

"Ron's in the library?" Harry said, obviously hoping that talk of the love of Hermione's life (the library, not Ron, Ginny thought) would take her mind off of interrogations about Parkinson.

Hermione knew everything, so of course it didn't work. "Sit down and start talking, Potter."

Ginny was nearly hysterical with laughter and nerves by the time she reached the staircases.

Draco was not in a good mood. He returned to the common room, swept passed all of his friends' questions about where he had gone during dinner, ignored taunting calls from the Slytherin team (once again surrounding Godkin and Ananda), and stalked up to his dormitory. He threw himself onto his bed, pulled the hangings shut, and tried not to think as he waited for the inevitable.

The inevitable arrived thirty seconds later.

"Stop sulking like a girl, and tell me everything immediately, Malfoy."

"Like a girl?" Draco heard an _oomph_ as someone was hit in the gut. "I'll show you _girl_, Zabini!"

Oh, bully. Blaise and Millicent.

"Both of you stop it, or you're sitting outside the door. Draco, come out this minute or I'm coming in."

Oh, double bully – Blaise and Millicent and Pansy. Draco couldn't be bothered to respond, so he stretch himself out on his back and stared up at the ceiling until Pansy crawled through the hangings and stretch out beside him.

"I'll keep your secret if you keep mine," she whispered, pillowing her head on his outstretched arm.

"I don't have any," Draco said obstinately.

"Sure you don't," Pansy retorted. "Blaise, Millie, come in here at once."

"Oh, for – " Draco began, as Millicent clambered over to lay on his other side, pinning his other arm down with her head, which was a deal larger than Pansy's.

Blaise stretched himself out diagonally across the bed with his head in Millicent's lap, pinning everyone's legs down.

"Now then, Draco," he said comfortably.

"Why are you in a strop?" Millicent asked. "And don't tell us you're not. We came all the way from our Arithmancy homework, just to console and counsel you in your time of distress."

"You came because you're nosy," Draco pointed out.

"Correct, as usual," Pansy said. "If you're not cunning enough to hide your pain, then you're an embarrassment to Slytherin House and deserve a good taunting."

"Thanks; it's good to know who your true friends are," Draco deadpanned. He wouldn't tell them how grateful he was. Instead, he glowered.

"Speaking of friends, is your strop anything to do with a certain little Gryffindor missus?" Pansy cooed.

"Let's talk about_your_ little strop with Mr. – " Draco began, but got no further because Pansy's hand clamped over his mouth.

"You _promised_," she hissed.

"I didn't," he tried to say from under her hand.

"Mr. Who, Pans?" Millicent asked with interest.

"Mr. Nobody, right, Draco?" Pansy growled, curling her fingernails into his cheek. "Ow!" she shouted a moment later, yanking her hand away and giving Draco a venomous look. "You _bit _me!"

"_You_ suffocated me and tried to claw my eyes out," he retorted, rubbing his cheek.

"You two are holding out on us," Blaise cut in, sitting up and looking them both over severely.

"And it's right unfair – we never hold back from _you_ lot," Millicent said. "For instance, Blaise has made his passionate love for Granger known to us all – "

"And to everyone else with eyes," Draco pointed out. Blaise smacked him upside the head. "Ow! Unsophisticated violence!"

"So what's up? Are you really snogging the little Weaslett?" Blaise said pointedly.

"Hardly," Draco said loftily.

"Why? Won't she give you the time of day?" Millicent asked, patting his hand with a pitying look.

Draco didn't rise to the bait. "She's one of my team girls. I won't go there with any of you. She looked upset, so I went to find out what was wrong."

He raised an eyebrow at Pansy, daring her to challenge him, add anything to the story. She scowled, but said nothing.

"Blaise," he said into the silence, "has Gwen said anything to you about Ananda's delightful new crowd?"

Blaise blinked, evidently taken by surprise. "Why would she?"

"Well, I thought they were friends."

"Draco, Gwen's in Ravenclaw."

"So?"

"So, why would she be friends with Ananda?"

"They were friends for a while," Pansy cut in, ignoring Draco and speaking to Blaise. "I remember seeing them together during Quidditch matches. I think they had a kind of falling out."

"Why the sudden interest in Blaise's sister?" Millicent wanted to know.

"Draco's changing the subject," Pansy said primly, still pretending to ignore him.

"To something more productive," Draco retorted. "I'm not keen on Ananda's choice of company and I think that's more important than a little chat with Weasley."

"A little chat that you came storming back from," Blaise pointed out. "I call that interesting."

"We were seen, all right?" Draco snapped before he could stop himself. Well, that tore it.

"You were seen?" Millicent repeated. "What do you care? Especially if you weren't doing anything."

"We _weren't_," Draco insisted. "But for – for various reasons we were joking around like that and – and there was a misunderstanding."

"Was it Jools?" Pansy said suddenly, forgetting to shun him. "P – I mean, I saw her go stomping down a staircase on my way to the dungeons. I said hi and she looked like she wanted to rip my throat out."

"I'm not having this discussion. I've bollixed things enough without turning this into a melodrama."

"Look, we don't want that, either," Millicent assured him, narrowing her eyes. "I'm amazed there isn't _more _team drama. But if Jools thought she saw something, she might talk."

"She couldn't do much damage, though." Pansy rubbed her cheek. "Weasley's not even on the team right now and everyone has too much respect for you both to believe something like that if you set the record straight." She paused. "Right?"

Draco let out a breath. She was right, of course. He didn't think Jools was a gossip, and even if she was, she wouldn't risk the cohesiveness of the team right before a match, just to vent her own feelings. He hoped.

"If it affects her game, though," Blaise said, eyeing Draco. "You should talk to her – just clear things up."

Draco sighed. He suspected his friend was right, but he wasn't quite sure how to straighten things out without letting Pansy's secret slip. And he was asking a lot of Jools to believe him. Whatever she thought she had seen, she really believed it.

_And we're three days, _three days_, from our Ravenclaw match_, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Shit," he said at last.

The silence of the others was not encouraging..

**)BW(**

The castle's torches had been lit by the time Ginny began her search for Draco. She thought it was probably hopeless, but nevertheless, she started down the staircases. Better out here than back in her room where she might explode with nerves.

_What_ will _he say when he finds out that it was Harry who got me back on the team_? she wondered. Knowing Draco, he would probably take it personally.

It seemed she wouldn't know until tomorrow, for though she searched several busy corridors, the hospital wing, library, Owlry, and Great Hall, she found no sign of him, nor any Slytherin she felt comfortable speaking to.

It was nearing curfew and she thought she had better make a start back to Gryffindor. She was just coming back from the dungeons, where she had gone to check the Potions classroom, in case Draco was working late with Snape. She was dragging her feet up the stairs when she nearly ran into someone coming down.

"Ananda!" she said blankly, pulling up short of colliding with the fifth year.

"Ginny! I mean – Weasley."

Ginny blinked and looked up at her. She hadn't seen her former friend in quite some time and had, in fact, been steering clear of her. The Slytherin seemed to have it out for the team girls, particularly the Gryffindors.

"What're _you_ doing down here?"

Ginny shifted her attention, realizing that Gus Godkin was standing just behind Ananda and had a large hand clamped on her shoulder.

"Nothing to do with you, Godkin, I promise," Ginny said sharply, defensive and exposed. "Now, if you'll excuse me …"

"Just a minute." Godkin was easily big enough to take up the entire stairwell. Ginny gritted her teeth. She doubted Godkin would try anything, but she didn't trust him and she didn't think she could trust Ananda, either.

"Gus, let's just head back. I'm tired," Ananda whined, but her eyes flickered to Ginny as she spoke.

"Again, little Weasel – what are you doing down here?" Godkin stepped around Ananda and towered over Ginny, who stood several steps below.

Ginny folded her arms. She felt a trickle of apprehension, but glared up at the Slytherin team captain. She had faced more formidable opponents.

"Again, Godkin –_nothing_ to do with you," she enunciated.

"Down here to find your precious captain?" he sneered, not giving an inch.

In one fluid motion, Ginny had her wand out, though she held it at her side.

"Ask my precious captain about my Bat Bogey hexes," she invited with a snarl born mainly of nerves. "Move."

"You wouldn't dare," Ananda said from behind Godkin. "You're practically _in_ our common room, Weasley."

Ginny blinked. "Really? I'd have thought it would be lower down." She twitched her wand. "Thanks for that. Now let me by and I promise not to eavesdrop on your password."

Godkin stepped right into her personal space. "And if I don't?"

Ginny flicked her wrist, though she couldn't easily raise her wand with him so close. "Please, Godkin. I was raised by six older brothers. Besides, I've met Tom Riddle. I've faced Death Eaters. I've dueled Harry Potter and very nearly won twice. Do you think I'm worried about the likes of you?" She was babbling recklessly. Still, you were only young and foolish once. "Now, do you move out of my way or do I move you?" She threw an approximation of Draco's condescending look at Ananda. "I'd hate to kick your arse in front of your girlfriend."

"I wouldn't, Weasley," Ananda said, and Ginny saw her wand in her hand. "I've been trained by one of those Death Eaters and I could take you here."

"Not with me as her second, you couldn't, little girl."

Ginny had never been so relieved to hear Pansy Parkinson's voice.

"Godkin, Draco and Blaise are in the common room. Go pick on someone your own size and don't make me take points from my own house for bullying."

Godkin looked between Ginny, who still had her wand on him, and Pansy, who was a prefect.

"Come on, Ananda," he said, his lip curling. "Malfoy's bitches aren't worth it."

He pushed roughly passed Ginny with Ananda clinging to his hand and glaring daggers between Ginny and Pansy. He stopped just beyond Pansy, mumbled something, and a large slab of stone slid sideways. With a last vicious look, the two Slytherins vanished through.

"Damn. I almost heard the password," Ginny ventured after a moment's silence.

"What're you doing down here, Weasley?" Pansy asked, belting her wand and moving toward Ginny.

"Everyone's so interested in me today," Ginny said sardonically. "But since you saved me from a hexing," she added. "Thanks, by the way."

"I've seen you duel, Weasley," Pansy returned grudgingly. "Godkin didn't stand a chance."

"He wasn't the one I was worried about," Ginny said honestly. She cocked her head. "What're _you_ doing out?"

"I was heading to the kitchens," Pansy said, rolling her eyes. "Draco's in a strop, so I thought I'd fetch him some coffee so he'll stop going on and on."

"Did he – I mean." Ginny flushed and gave herself a mental shake. "Do you know why he's upset?"

Pansy smirked. "He mentioned a misunderstanding." Her expression sobered. "You're Potter's friend, right?"

"Yes," Ginny said, surprised.

"Then keep us quiet, will you?" Pansy said gruffly. "And I won't say anything about what I know about the misunderstanding between you and Draco and Boot."

"Not like Harry would tell me anything, but, yeah, I'll keep it to myself," Ginny agreed. There was a moment of silence and she added, "Er, thanks again."

Pansy hesitated. "Look, why don't you walk to the kitchens with me."

"Why?"

"You're clearly down here looking for Draco, you can't see him unless I let you into Slytherin, and I won't let you in unless you come to the kitchens with me." Pansy gave her a smug look.

"Well – it's kind of near curfew and I've been caught one too many times by Filch," Ginny began.

"Oh, never mind," Pansy scoffed. "I'll take you back when you're done visiting Draco. Prefect, remember."

"You're keen," Ginny muttered, but she fell into step beside Pansy, who led the way away from the stairs and deeper into the dungeon.

"So I don't like scampering about the castle _alone _at night," Pansy admitted defensively after a moment's silence. "Would _you_? Oh, sorry, silly question."

"Hey, I was about to head back to Gryffindor," Ginny pointed out. "I don't wander the castle alone either. I may be a Gryffindor, but I'm not stupid, Parkinson."

They continued down the corridor in silence, until suddenly the kitchen doorway appeared ahead.

"I'll be damned," Ginny muttered. "All you Slytherins have to do is walk down the hall?"

"Yeah, most people think Salazar Slytherin built his common room here because he was into darkness and drinking the blood of virgins," Pansy said coolly. "Turns out he was just a lot smarter than the rest of the founders." She paused, offering Ginny a crooked smile. "Or a lot hungrier. It's an enchanted corridor, that's all I know."

They entered the kitchens, Ginny said hello to Dobby, and Pansy ordered a large pot of coffee and two éclairs. She worried her lower lip the entire time.

"Oh, spill it, Parkinson," Ginny finally burst out in exasperation. "You've something else to say to me; just say it. You're making me nervous."

Pansy actually cracked a grin. "Sorry, Weasley, didn't realize you were the squeamish sort." She paused. "I just wondered what you meant back there about Godkin not being the one you were worried about."

"Oh." That hadn't been the question she was expecting. "Well, I meant Ananda, didn't I?"

"But why?" Pansy pushed the éclairs around, lining them up exactly parallel on the plate. "She's a year behind you and," she rolled her eyes, "she wasn't trained by the great Harry Potter. I mean, you weren't afraid of Godkin but you were concerned about Ananda?"

"Sure." Ginny watched her closely. "She was trained by a Death Eater. I've fought them, Parkinson. Not experiences I care to repeat."

"Excuse me – a_Death Eater_?" Pansy repeated, staring at Ginny in evident disbelief.

"Um – yeah." Ginny wanted to back up a step – Pansy's scrutiny was making her uncomfortable.

"That's not possible," Pansy said slowly.

"What's so impossible about it?" Ginny asked curiously. "She's Malfoy's cousin. His whole family has connections."

"Not Mila Malfoy – Ananda's mum, Draco's aunt," Pansy added, seeing Ginny's blank look. "She moved to France a few years back and went into hiding when the Dark Lord returned. Ananda's been in hiding with her, except to attend Hogwarts. Mila wouldn't allow a Death Eater within a league of her daughter."

"Then why tell me she's trained with a Death Eater?" Ginny wondered. "I mean, that's a hefty threat to toss around."

"It is," Pansy agreed, staring vaguely across the kitchen. She blinked and focused on Ginny. "Look, Weasley, I don't expect you to get this, but I'm – I'm _asking_ you not to say anything to anyone about this."

"Fine," Ginny said, crossing her arms. "If you tell me why I shouldn't."

Pansy opened her mouth in a snarl, closed it, took a deep breath, and said, "I can tell you this. Something's been up with Ananda since she left the team for good. She's keeping weird company and skulking around. And – well, what she said to you is just another weird thing in a long line of weird things. Weasley, I expect you know I don't beg. I'm_begging_ you not to tell anyone."

"I won't, promise," Ginny assured her, genuinely worried. "But – what if it's something to do with Harry?"

"What could it possibly have to do with Potter?" Pansy said sharply.

A house elf placed a full pot of coffee and cups before Pansy.

"Everything concerning Voldemort, even indirectly, has something to do with Harry," Ginny snapped.

Pansy gritted her teeth, probably at the sound of the name. "You know I – see Potter around," she said slowly. "If I think it's something he should know – well, I'll tell him."

"Okay," Ginny said. It was the most she could expect and Pansy was already giving a lot. "I'll keep my mouth shut."

"Good. Help me carry," Pansy ordered, handing her a cup and the éclairs.

They tramped back to Slytherin in silence.

"So," Pansy said outside the common room door. "What're you here to see Draco about?"

"Stuff," Ginny said, her heart suddenly pounding.

"Stuff," Pansy repeated. "Right."

**)BW(**

Draco, Blaise, and Millicent had been lying in relative silence on Draco's bed when the door opened and Pansy came through bearing coffee and Ginny in her wake. Her three friends sat bolt upright.

"It was a deal getting her through the common room, I can tell you," Pansy said, by way of a greeting, setting to coffee on a side table and motioning Ginny to put down the cup and éclairs.

"I come bearing sweets and a prayer that you'll protect me on my way back through your common room," Ginny deadpanned. "The heated glares of the masses were nothing next to the jealous glares of all the girls who probably realized I was going up to your room, _coach_."

Draco blinked. ¨You told me that even if you got back on the team, you still weren't calling me _coach_.¨

Without a word, Ginny fished her mum's wadded letter from her robes and tossed it to him. He caught it, opened it, and began to read. Pansy slid over beside him, and Millicent and Blaise crowded in over each shoulder.

Ginny stood very still, biting her lip and wondering who would finish reading first.

They all seemed to finish at the same time.

¨Well done, Weasley!¨ Millicent burst out with uncharacteristic zeal. She slid off Draco's bed and pounded Ginny on the back.

¨You're back, you're back, we'll never lose again!¨ chanted Pansy, bouncing up and down and clapping her hands.

¨She's right, you know,¨ Blaise said, winking at Ginny. ¨With you, Granger, and Pansy, it's the dynamic trio. Besides, I've been training you for weeks now. You're ten times better than you were before.¨

Ginny could have laughed at anything. She beamed at them all, her eyes at last coming to rest on Draco.

To Ginny's amazement, he was muttering under his breath. ¨Uniforms … we don't have enough uniforms … need to borrow Patrice's, possibly. Need a Firebolt! Could we steal Potter's? Nah, mustn't get arrested.¨ And suddenly, he was off, storming around the room, throwing things everywhere.

Eventually, Ginny realized he was looking for a quill and parchment. He finally seated himself at a little table in the center of the room, dipped his newly found quill in ink, and began writing notes. He was also thumbing through _Witch Broomstick_ and a moment later, detached an order form with a flick of his wrist. Faster than anyone could blink, he had filled out the form and was folding it up.

¨Owl, owl, need an owl,¨ he mumbled like a man possessed, jumping up and pacing the room. He stopped in front of Blaise and said loudly, ¨Owl!¨

Blaise Zabini had, Ginny suspected, never been so speechless. ¨Owl. Right.¨ And with an uncharacteristic display of meekness, he ducked out of the room.

¨I'll … I'm going to the common room now, ¨ Pansy said, eyeing him with something like wariness. ¨Weasley, when he's … through with you, I'll take you back.¨

¨Right, ¨ Millicent echoed. ¨Because you're a sane prefect … ¨

So saying, they both left, pulling the dormitory door shut behind them.

Ginny swallowed. If Draco had lost his mind … well, she was alone in a room with a madman –

Who was suddenly staring intently at her. Ginny realized she was backing away.

¨Party! ¨ Draco said, advancing on her. ¨We're going to have a party!¨

¨Oh, are we?¨ What did one say to distract a madman? ¨Where shall we have it?¨

Draco blinked again, cocking his head and gazing at her in the most unsettling way. ¨You're back on the team.¨

In spite of her apprehension that he had finally taken a dive off the deep end, she beamed at him. ¨I'm back on the team.¨

He actually smiled back.

Before Ginny could retrieve her jaw, which had nearly hit the floor, Draco was off again. ¨Three days. That's all we've got till we match Ravenclaw. Only three days … ¨

Sensing another fit, Ginny pushed him backwards until he was seated on the bed, handed him the coffee Pansy had brought for him, and said, ¨Never mind that. Blaise has been working with me almost every day.¨

¨What does bloody Zabini know about anything?¨ Draco demanded between feverish sips of coffee.

¨Thanks a lot, git.¨ Mercifully, Blaise had returned with a handsome barn owl on his arm. Motioning Ginny to keep Draco distracted, Blaise scooped up the completed order form from the table and attached it to the owl's leg with a bit of twine. Then he opened one of the dormitory windows and threw the owl out into the night sky.

Ginny blinked. ¨I thought your dorms were under the lake.¨

¨They are, but the windows are enchanted so that we can send owls from our rooms,¨ Blaise explained, beginning to sort through the harried mess of parchment and ink that Draco had created.

¨It's only fair,¨ Draco put in, and his abrupt return to normalcy seemed to surprise Blaise as much as Ginny. ¨All the other houses can do that.¨

¨Blaise, can you walk me back to the common room?¨ Ginny asked, easing away from her crazed coach.

Draco stared at her in a panicky way. ¨No, must practice. Practice every hour of the day until the match…¨

¨No, Draco,¨ Blaise said patiently. ¨Because then she would die and a dead Chaser isn't very handy on the pitch.¨

¨Mmm … yes, she's useless dead.¨ Draco continued to nurse his coffee as Blaise took Ginny's arm and they backed out of the room.

¨Well … ¨ she said as she followed Blaise down the steps to the common room. ¨That … went well.¨

¨Never mind,¨ Blaise said bracingly. ¨Clearly, he was overjoyed.¨

¨Or overwrought.¨ Pansy met them at the base of the girl's staircase in the common room. ¨Come on, Weasley."

¨And someone's got to make sure Draco doesn't do anything rash until he's calmed down,¨ Blaise agreed. ¨And make sure Godkin hasn't set Crabbe or Goyle on him.¨

¨Make sure he sleeps a bit, and thanks,¨ Ginny said, as he bade her a second congratulations and hurried back up the stairs.

¨Come on,¨ Pansy said, leading Ginny across the deserted common room.

Despite Draco's temporary psychotic episode, Ginny couldn't help but grin like an idiot as she followed her team mate back to Gryffindor. On the whole, that couldn't have gone better.

**)BW(**

When Draco awoke the next morning, it was with the same feverish energy. It wasn't just that Ginny was back on the team – it was as though they had finally achieved something. They had won an important battle and now, miraculously, things were looking up. Draco took extra care dressing and went to breakfast, where he seized the coffee pot and poured himself three cups.

¨Steady on, coach,¨ Millicent murmured, staring as Draco tossed them back in quick succession.

¨Blaise,¨ Draco said, his mind on other things. ¨Blaise, where can we party?¨

Blaise's eyebrows disappeared under his fringe. ¨I can think of a few places, but the best thing would be away the castle. Perhaps ask the girls?¨

¨Right,¨ Draco said. ¨Because we have practice today – ¨

But Blaise wasn't paying attention to him. He was gazing across the Great Hall at the Gryffindor table.

¨Hold that thought,¨ he said. Getting up, he made his way over and knelt beside Granger, whispering in her ear. Draco craned his neck. Granger tapped her chin and Parvati Patil, who was beside her, leaned over and murmured something as well. The whispered conversation appeared to be to some purpose, because a moment later, Blaise returned to the Slytherin table. Pansy and Millicent leaned in to listen as Blaise murmured, ¨I can fix it for the night of the Ravenclaw game. Granger suggested the perfect place.¨

¨So it'll be a We-Got-Our-Chaser-Back and a We-Thrashed-Ravenclaw party,¨ Pansy said.

"Yeah, I'll sort it," Blaise said. "You lot need to train hard over the next couple of days.¨

¨Why were you speaking to Granger?¨ Draco wanted to know.

¨She's got the inside scoop on a lot of things,¨ Blaise said cryptically. ¨She's got _connections_.¨

¨Right,¨ Millicent said doubtfully. ¨Connections.¨

Blaise refused to say any more about it, and soon, Draco's mind was back on the game. Ginny hadn't been with the team for a while now and that was worrying. She had been practicing, but not with Pansy or Granger. How could he reintegrate her into the team again, and do it effectively in less than three days?

He was in this sort of manic daze through his classes, so practice that afternoon seemed to sneak up and kick him in the arse. He was roused by the notion that his girls seemed to be pointing a lot at and whispering about him.

¨Stop that at once!¨ he ordered, sweeping into the lockers and trying to gather his thoughts properly. ¨We have a match in two days' time. Why aren't you all in the air?¨

The girls stopped talking and scattered at once. The fact that one of them had been missing until just then was brought to Draco's attention as Ginny came skidding into the room.

¨I'm so sorry I'm late, coach. I was held back in Herbology!¨ she panted, tearing off her robes.

¨Late for what, Ginny?¨ Adrienne Abbot asked, ducking the airborne clothing of her team mate.

¨I – ¨ Ginny paused, looking helplessly at Draco. His heart gave a jolt. She was back. _She was back_!

¨Good news, girls,¨ he said, surprised at the calm in his voice. ¨Weasley´s going to be playing for us on Saturday.¨

The locker room might well have exploded, such was the cacophony of noise that greeted this news.

¨Back on the team?_Really_ back, Ginny?¨

¨Oh, my god I don´t believe it – ¨

¨ - did you speak to your parents – ¨

¨ - why didn't you _tell _us?¨

¨Boot, Bones, I want a word!¨ he called over the noise. ¨Girls, get the hell out to the pitch. Now!¨

Ginny, it seemed, had spent the day wearing her kit under her robes because she dumped her books and outerwear in a heap and was swept out of the lockers with the other girls, beaming over her shoulder at Draco as went.

Draco took a deep breath, shaking his head and feeling the numbness of shock beginning to wear off. Something warm and sharp settled in his chest, and he grinned at his two captains. Bones beamed back, but Jools only nodded.

¨We've a match in two days, captains,¨ he said. ¨You know what to do. And make sure Weasley's on the field as much as possible today. I want her on the pitch first thing for the game.¨

¨Yeah, coach.¨ Bones nodded briskly. Jools' lip was curled.

¨Got a problem with that, Boot?¨ he demanded. Strops could be had, but not if they affected her game or anyone else's.

¨No, _coach_,¨ she said softly.

¨Then get that look off your face and give me twenty laps,¨ Draco snapped.

Jools turned without a word and strode from the lockers, her broom clutched in a white-knuckled grip.

¨What was that about?¨ Bones said, gazing after her team mate.

¨That time of the month, maybe,¨ Draco bit out, leading the way out of the lockers.

¨Coach, don't.¨

¨Don't what?¨

¨I mean,¨ Bones said as they emerged onto the pitch. ¨She seemed really upset and she hasn't said a proper word to me all day. Whatever it is … please be patient with her?¨

Draco ran a hand over his face, very tired all of a sudden, and nodded. ¨Get in the air, Bones."

She gave his arm a squeeze before mounting her broom and kicking off.

Though the residual affects of Ginny's return seemed to give the entire team an unprecedented drive and focus, Draco could feeling Jools' mood weighing them down. They couldn't ignore her sullenness and clearly couldn't understand why she wasn't overjoyed. By the end of the practice, to which Draco, in agreement with Bones, called an early finish that evening, most of the girls were avoiding Jools.

¨Stroppy cow,¨ Pansy muttered a little too loudly, glaring at Jools' back as she pushed roughly passed the others for a shower.

¨Some captain,¨ Millicent agreed. ¨Tiny little thing comes up and, oh snap! She's out of the game.¨

¨Stop it, both of you,¨ Granger ordered, glancing sternly over her shoulder at them. ¨Whatever it is, just let her be upset and done with it. We've a match in two days.¨

Grumbling rudenesses about Granger under her breath, Pansy nevertheless went quiet, for which Draco, walking behind them, was thankful. The last thing they needed was discord at the captains' level. Draco hoped that the absolute worst-case scenario would be removing Jools from the game if it became necessary.

In the lockers, the usual chatter was muted by the tension. Jools didn't speak to anyone, except in monosyllabic bursts, until even her own housemate stayed away. She was the first done and left without a word to anyone. Draco seethed. This had to end now.

He followed her from the lockers at a jog and didn't say a word till he fell into step beside her.

¨Out with it, Boot,¨ he ordered. ¨I'm not letting you stew in this.¨

¨It's not your choice,¨ she snapped. ¨I'll do whatever the hell I want.¨

¨Then you don´t play Ravenclaw.¨

¨Fine.¨

Draco almost stopped walking. As it was, he lost pace with her for a moment before collecting his wits.

_¨Fine_?¨ he snapped. She continued to stare stonily ahead. ¨You've been aching for this match. It's _your_ house we're playing, in case you'd forgotten. And now you're going to throw it all away because of a stupid misunderstanding – ¨

¨Stupid misunderstanding?¨ Jools repeated, stopping and whirling to face him. Her eyes were red. ¨You were off to snog Ginny Weasley,_coach_. You were giggling about it like a little girl.¨

¨I was not going to snog Weasley!¨ he insisted. ¨Look, I know it looked that way, but we just said it to get someone off our backs, that's all.¨

¨It didn't look that way.¨ Jools was suddenly very quiet. ¨You were holding hands. You were flushed and laughing and your _eyes_ were dancing, Draco.¨ She squeezed her own shut, her cheeks going a bit red, and said, ¨You've never looked at – looked at any of us the way you were looking at Ginny Weasley.¨

Draco opened his mouth to protest, to tell her it wasn't true and how could she possibly think anything like that about him and Ginny? But then he remembered how delighted he had been at the looks on Potter and Pansy's faces and how he had been gripping Ginny's hand and how she had been giggling like a crazy woman …

And he remembered Jools' expression and her voice as she said, ¨Planning on snogging your way back onto the team, are you, Ginny?¨

And he remembered Jools putting her arm through his or around his shoulders and her voice when she occasionally called him Draco.

He sighed, the anger draining from his as he shook his head. ¨I – I'm sorry, Jools.¨

He looked up and saw her eyes brimming with tears. ¨Like hell you are.¨

And she ran, skipping up the steps to the castle and disappearing through the door.

Draco made no move to stop her.

**)BW(**

Ginny came out of the locker room in time to see Jools disappear into the castle and Draco's tense shoulders. She winced. She had anticipated rejoining the team for ages and now, the happy moment finally here, it felt flat.

_And what can I possibly take away from this experience_? she wondered. _Maybe that I should never speak again_.

She moved toward Draco as the other girls came out of the lockers behind her.

¨Weasley,¨ Draco said when she drew level with him. ¨I think maybe you should never speak again.¨

Ginny opened her mouth angrily, then snapped it shut. ¨I think you're right,¨ she mumbled as she fell into step beside him.

¨Well, never mind,¨ he said gruffly. ¨Your worry – your _only_ worry – is being the best damned Chaser on that pitch in two days. Think you can managed that?¨

¨Oh, yeah,¨ Ginny said, waving a careless hand. ¨Sure, no problem.¨

Still, she went to bed that night and got up the next morning with the same sour taste of tainted happiness in her mouth. One advantage this had was that she felt an added drive on the pitch. The other girls seemed to be fired by her return – Pansy and Hermione, particularly – and were flying for all they were worth. During their first practice match, Betina Johnson caught the Snitch in less than twenty minutes. Pansy's first attempted aerial was a success, Patrice Patil managed a Reverse Pass to Adrienne Abbot that caused the latter to score against Susan Bones in under ten seconds, and Natalie MacDonald had, on her own, prevented two goals being scored by the opposing team by hitting the Bludgers harder and more accurately than she ever had before.

Ginny felt their energy, but something else was driving her game. It was the knowledge that Jools was watching her every move. Ginny was inexpressibly relieved that Draco her put her and the Beater on the same team, because Jools was positively tearing up the pitch. With her eyes on Ginny as well as the Bludgers, though, Ginny felt as though to fumble would be to admit she had done something wrong, or that Jools was right to be angry with her, which she wasn't. She simply couldn't think of a way to convince the captain that there was absolutely_nothing_ going on between herself and Draco. She suspected that Draco had already tried to speak to Jools and had failed – he was much cleverer than she was, she felt – so she went on with practice and let the strange new drive to prove herself pull her through practice.

On the bright side, she had only fumbled the Quaffle once during their last two practices.

The day of the Ravenclaw match dawned dark and cold, which mocked the hopeful mood of the team.

¨It's like that match in third year, with the Dementors,¨ Parvati mumbled into her untouched oatmeal.

¨Yeah, the match where Harry fell off his broom,¨ Hermione agreed glumly, turning her toast point to mush with her fingers. ¨That was during a storm, too.¨

¨I wasn't there for that,¨ Natalie said dully. She was tapping her wand against her goblet of pumpkin juice and it was shrinking to the size of a doll's teacup.

¨Lucky you,¨ Ginny muttered, remembering how her heart had stopped when Harry appeared out of the clouds and plummeted to about three feet above the ground..

¨God, were we this bad before we played Gryffindor?¨ Hermione said with a smile that looked almost genuine.

¨I expect we were worse,¨ Parvati said, returning the smile with a tremble of the lips. "The difference was we didn't talk about it, then."

On the whole, it was quite a relief when they saw Draco get up and head for the doors of the Great Hall. The girls almost tumbled their housemates off the benches trying to follow.

¨_You're _all in a state,¨ was his greeting as they caught up, closely followed by their Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin team mates.

¨Yeah, Hermione had a Harry-falling-to-his-death flashback,¨ Parvati said, nudging her friend.

¨Worst _possible_ timing, Granger,¨ Draco said, raising his eyebrows.

¨I know, I'm sorry!¨ Hermione wailed, with a piteous expression. Ginny would never, ever get used to Hermione occasionally deferring to Draco. It was just unnatural.

¨I remember that match,¨ Hannah spoke up. She shivered. ¨Merlin, there were Dementors _everywhere_.¨

¨Kitties, bunnies, happy rainbows, la la la!¨ Pansy sang, her fingers stuffed in her ears.

¨I need a team psychiatrist!¨ Draco muttered, and Ginny, walking close behind him, laughed as the tension in her stomach eased.

¨Yeah, right!¨ Adrienne laughed as well. ¨Who in their right mind would take our lot for less than a fortune in Galleons?¨

The others (excepting Jools, Ginny assumed) laughed at the idea, and slowly the low buzz of conversation started up amongst the team. Under cover of the noise, Ginny caught up with Draco and murmured, ¨What's this about a party, coach?¨

¨Never you mind, Weasley,¨ he said, though his lip twitched. ¨You just consider that if you fumble that ball today you'll never play again for all the laps you'll do.¨

Ginny grinned. The laps threat.

¨Yeah, yeah,_coach_,¨ she said, falling back to walk with Hermione.

¨Anyway, he doesn't know anything,¨ Hermione murmured to her. ¨Bla – Zabini is fixing it.¨

Ginny raised her eyebrows at her friend. ¨Oh, really?¨

Hermione gave her an ¨Oh, please!¨ look that turned to a look of alarm as Blaise suddenly appeared beside them.

¨Where did you come from?¨ Hermione demanded.

¨Whoa, there, keep your hair on,¨ he said with a cheeky grin. ¨I've been here this whole time.¨

¨Some might wonder why,¨ Hermione retorted grouchily.

¨Some might,¨ he agreed, not rising to the bait and looking, to Ginny, perfectly content. Hermione seemed to think so as well because she rolled her eyes and stalked off, her new Blaise-shaped appendage doggedly tagging along.

¨Ginny! Oy, Ginny!¨

Ginny threw a look over her shoulder and saw, with some surprise, Harry jogging to catch up. She slid out of the mob of girls.

¨What's up?¨ she asked. She grinned. "I haven't forgot my gloves today."

He grinned a bit, going red. "I really was just bringing them to you, not looking for – er, see other people. Try to do a nice thing …" He paused, clearing his throat. ¨Can – can I ask a favor?¨

¨Um – sure?¨ She glanced back at her team mates. Susie was looking curiously back at her. ¨I'll catch you all up!¨ Ginny called to her. Susie nodded and as Ginny turned away, she caught a look at Jools' face as well. She had an ugly sneer and she gave Ginny a long, condescending look before following Susie through the doors of the entrance hall.

¨What was _that_ about?¨ Harry asked once the doors were closed.

¨Please, don't even ask,¨ Ginny begged, kneading her temples. ¨I mean, really, don't. It's not even worth going into.¨

¨It gonna affect your game at all?¨ he asked. Being Harry, he couldn't just _let it go_ without at least some probing questions.

¨I don't think Malfoy will let it get that bad,¨ she said with some comfort at the new idea. ¨He's got his eye on her.¨

¨If you're sure,¨ he said doubtfully.

¨I am. Your favor?¨

¨Right.¨ Harry cleared his throat and turned an even darker red. Ginny couldn't help it – she laughed.

¨Shut up,¨ Harry muttered, continuing from red to _red_ and trying to glare at her.

Ginny crossed her arms. ¨This about Parkinson, by any chance?¨

Finally, Harry pulled the hood of his robes right down over his face.

¨Shall I wish her good luck for you?¨ Ginny hazarded, still smirking. The bundle of robes nodded.

¨I'll do that,¨ she said, patting what she guessed was the top of his head and turning away.

¨You looked like Malfoy when you do that!¨ Harry called after her, his voice muffled.

She turned around and stared at him. ¨When I do what?¨ she called back.

¨Smirk,¨ he said. ¨Good luck!¨

¨Thanks. Prat!¨

She ran through the doors and out onto the grounds, hoping the cold air would cool her cheeks before she reached the lockers.

**)BW(**

¨Weasley, you got something so important to speak to Potter about that you missed my carefully scripted pep talk?¨ Draco demanded after he had pulled her aside the others, who were changing.

¨Sorry,¨ Ginny said, panting slightly. Draco sincerely hoped it was from running. ¨He just had a favor to ask.¨

¨And it was …?¨ Draco wasn't sure why he was so concerned about what Potter had wanted with her, but it was eating at him.

Ginny rolled her eyes. To his surprise, she leaned quite close and whispered, ¨He just wanted me to wish Parkinson luck, that's all. You know, _from_ him.¨

Draco glanced involuntarily at his Slytherin housemate, who was across the lockers with Susan Bones and Natalie MacDonald. He was vaguely disgusted, but that was Pansy's life if she wanted it that way.

¨Make it quick, then,¨ he ordered. He nodded to a bench, trying to sound off-hand. ¨Your new kit and Firebolt are on that bench, Weasley. Get down quickly so you can unwrap them.¨

Ginny's whole face lightened and she suddenly had sunlight behind her smile. She bounced up and down giddily and whispered, ¨Thanks, coach,¨ before drifting off to speak to Pansy. Draco shook his head. One minute, she was mouthing off like he was Professor Snape; the next, she was grinning that blinding grin and her eyes were twinkling and she was thanking him like a giddy schoolgirl.

¨Try telling Boot it was nothing _now_,¨ Blaise muttered in his ear, making him jump about a foot in the air.

¨For Merlin's sake, you astounding bastard!¨ Draco snarled, clutching his chest. ¨Don't _do_ that!¨

The lockers went suddenly silent and Draco felt all the girls' eyes on him. ¨Did I tell you to stop getting ready?¨ he snapped. ¨In case you hadn't noticed, we have a game in ten minutes!¨

The girls grumbled but continued getting ready while Draco rounded on Blaise.

¨What the hell do you want?¨ he demanded.

¨Not that your issues with Weasley and Boot are any of _my_ business, of course,¨ Blaise said, meeting Draco's hostile look with one of complete unconcern and lowering his voice. ¨So let's move along. Granger was right and I've found a venue for our little party tonight.¨

¨Good – where and how?¨ Draco demanded. He didn't bother lowering his own voice, as the pre-game noise in the lockers was rapidly escalating. He remembered how, before their first game, they had been dead quiet until they were airborne.

¨Granger clued me in to a secret passage out of the school,¨ Blaise said. ¨Mind you, she was right unhappy, but she said there was no other way to get out without being caught.¨

¨So _where_?¨

¨The Hogshead has a trendy nightclub in its basement,¨ Blaise said. Draco's eyebrows shot up. ¨I _know_,¨ Blaise went on quickly. ¨How did Granger know and why in Merlin's name does the Hogshead have a nightclub. Granger wouldn't tell me why or how she knew about the club, which suggests to me that the Gryffindor team might use the place for parties.¨ Blaise paused. ¨Don't worry – if we meet them there, we'll blackmail each other and it's fine. Granger said if Potter gave the word, his team would keep quiet.¨

Draco snorted. Of course – who didn't love and obey the wise and noble Harry Potter?

¨Stop inner-monologue ranting,¨ Blaise ordered. Draco swore. His eyes got suspiciously twitchy when he did that. He had watched himself in a mirror once.

¨Now, why the Hogshead has a nightclub,¨ Blaise went on. ¨Well, Hogsmeade is a town with young people and I guess that Hogsmeade is quite a popular retreat for London wizards. Plus it's closer for witches and wizards who live in the Highlands to come here than to go to Edinburgh.¨

Sounded plausible, Draco thought. "And how will we sneak the younger girls in?¨ he asked. "I can't leave any of them out."

¨Easy – owner doesn't ask questions, _if_ the little bibsies are with a big group.¨

¨Okay,¨ Draco said carefully. ¨So tonight then?¨

¨Yeah, I've got it all set and Granger knows how to get us all out and back in without being caught.¨ Blaise suddenly grinned. ¨And unfortunately for you, sounds like you have Potter to thank for it.¨

¨Oh, great,¨ Draco muttered. He felt another eye twitch coming on.

¨Coach?¨ Bones appeared at Draco's side. ¨They're all set. We just need our line up.¨

Draco nodded. ¨Blaise, we'll talk after the match since I assume you'll want to sit with Slytherin,¨ he muttered.

¨Will do.¨ Blaise threw a smile at the girls, all of whom were now staring in his direction. ¨Ladies – good luck!¨

The thank-yous followed him from the lockers.

¨Right,¨ said Draco, pulling out his strategies parchment and taking a look. ¨Starting – Bones, I'd like you to open as Keeper. Johnson, you know you're in and I expect you to stay safe because there's no replacing you. I want Granger, Pansy, and Weasley to start, but we'll try to rotate the rest of you through as well. I know Abbot wants to play her house.¨ He nodded to Adrienne, the other Abbot sister and Ravenclaw on the team. ¨And,¨ he paused.

He hadn't anticipated the fine line he was walking with his Beaters. MacDonald and Millicent hadn't played in a proper match yet. Millicent hadn't been on the team for the first match and MacDonald hadn't seen airtime. However, _not_ putting Jools up there first thing would add to the growing tension and his reluctant feeling of guilt. Plus, this was her house they were playing. Until a few days ago when she had said she didn't care about playing anymore, Draco had known how important it was for her to see airtime against Ravenclaw and her brother Terry, their captain.

He took a deep breath. This was part of being a coach – making a tough choice and sticking with it. He couldn't accommodate everyone, and in the end, what was best for the team was what mattered most. ¨Right. I'm starting Millicent and MacDonald this game because neither have played in a match before.¨ He glanced at Jools and Patil. Patil looked a bit disappointed, but didn't argue. She gave MacDonald's shoulder a squeeze of encouragement. Jools just looked away, as though the corner of the lockers was more interesting than Draco.

¨Good,¨ Draco said, ignoring her with some effort. ¨There's nothing I can say now that will make you better than you are,¨ he said, addressing them all. ¨Just get in the air and show Ravenclaw what Quaffle taste like!¨

The girls cheered, and to Draco, as he caught sight of her, it sounded as though Ginny shouted the loudest. She punched her fist into the air and lined up with Granger and Pansy. Draco didn't like to keep his eye on her too long, but in her new robes with her hair in a topknot and her new Firebolt gripped protectively in both hands, she looked the image of a star Chaser.

¨I saw that,¨ came a hiss of a whisper as Jools passed him on her way to the bench.

Draco didn't respond, but left the lockers with his heart pounding against his ribs.

**)BW(**

Ginny felt a rush of sheer joy as she soared onto the pitch with her team mates and did the customary lap in perfect formation. She was here! She was playing on the team and she was going to show the entire school just how thrilled she was to be there. She felt the agility of the Firebolt and the snap of her new robes as they fought the icy breeze. She felt her fingers freeze to the broom handle and her hair whip out behind her.

This, she remembered, was why she played Quidditch.

Her team landed opposite the Ravenclaws who, unlike the Gryffindors, didn't make fun of the girls' formation flying, but opted instead to do their own. Ginny took a moment after landing to glance around her. Susie stood in front of her, ready to shake hands with the captain. Hermione and Pansy stood to her right, with Bettina, Natalie, and Millicent on her left.

She suddenly realized that a large part of her jubilation was due to Jools not being out there. She felt sickened at the idea and shook it away.

¨Captains, shake hands,¨ Madam Hooch ordered.

Jools' brother Terry stepped forward and shook Susie's outstretched hand. Ginny felt her stomach clench. Jools should have been the one shaking her brother's hand. She had been waiting for it ever since she knew they were playing Ravenclaw after Gryffindor.

¨Mount your brooms,¨ Madam Hooch said, and Ginny returned her attention to the game. Glancing up into the stands, she saw Draco seated beside Dumbledore. He was leaning forward on his elbows and Ginny could feel his gaze on the team. She felt braver.

¨Three, two, one!¨ In slow motion, Ginny saw the Quaffle rise into the air. Before it dropped she was in motion, diving between two of the Ravenclaw Chasers who were going for the ball, which she ignored, and streaking off up the pitch.

¨Ginny!¨

Ginny reached up with her arms and caught the Quaffle Hermione had dropped from above. She tucked it under her arm and leaned forward, keeping her focus wide and ignoring the zigzagging pattern of the Ravenclaw Keeper up ahead. She was in position two seconds later and, praying that none of the other Chasers were behind her –

She stopped dead, throwing the Quaffle to Pansy, the only Chaser still looking at her, and flew in a wide arch. By the time the Ravenclaw Chasers figured out where the Quaffle was, Pansy and Hermione were headed for the goals, crammed tightly together with the Quaffle between them. Ginny wasn't actually touching it, of course, because that was a foul, but she was close enough to make it impossible for the Ravenclaw Keeper to know which of them was actually holding the Quaffle.

A moment later, Pansy nudged her, letting her know to take the Quaffle and just before they reached the illegal zone surrounding the Keeper, Ginny grabbed the Quaffle and fell sideways, throwing it through the farthest left of the three golden hoops.

A roar went up in the crowd: groaning from the Ravenclaws and cheering – yes, _cheering_ – from the other three houses. Ginny soared away from the hoops, grinning at Hermione and Pansy who were up ahead.

¨And it looks like the girls will take the opening goal and the lead by ten,¨ came Colin Creevey's voice over the noise of the crowd. "That's Chaser Ginny Weasley, apparently ready to take a more active role in today's match. Nice shot, Gin!"

¨Yeah, Ginny!¨ Natalie met her and they slapped hands.

¨Get ready, Gin!¨ Hermione called. ¨Quaffle's coming back our way.¨

¨Good luck!¨ Natalie called, diving down to meet Millicent, who clapped her hands gleefully and sped off to find a Bludger.

Ginny took off up the pitch, positioning herself ten feet from Susie, who was weaving in front of the goalposts with narrowed eyes. She watched the Ravenclaw Chasers flick the Quaffle between them as Hermione and Pansy tried to intercept. Ginny's palms sweated. If it came down to her catching the Quaffle … she waited, her knuckles aching with her grip on her Firebolt. Before she joined the fray she needed to see that Pansy and Hermione had a strategy.

They did. Hermione suddenly wrenched her broom up and shot over the Ravenclaw carrying the Quaffle. She dropped until she was less than a meter over his head. That close, it was impossible for him to miss her. However, he only glanced up for a moment before continuing toward Ginny.

A moment was all Pansy needed. She flew straight at the Ravenclaw's tight-knit formation, knocking the Quaffle out of the Chaser's loose grip and following through so that she passed beneath all three. Hermione and Ginny were already close to her, keeping the Quaffle moving between them and making it harder to spot who was in possession. They didn't have much of a lead.

They didn't have_enough_ of a lead. Pansy threw the Quaffle to Ginny, who felt the fumble as it slid in her hands and was swiped by a Chaser from Ravenclaw.

¨Damn it!¨ she swore, pulling around hard and bending low over her broom. The Firebolt leapt forward and she saw Pansy and Hermione ahead of her, already preparing to intercept a second time. Ginny could tell they weren't going to make it.

A moment later, her fears were confirmed, as the Chaser in the center of the Ravenclaw formation banked sharply to the left and dropped the Quaffle into the left hoop before Susie could reach it.

Ginny heard Pansy muttering obscenities as Colin announced Ravenclaw's first goal. Ginny tightened her grip on her broom and shot off up the pitch to start a new formation as indicated by a gesture from Hermione.

The next twenty minutes of the match passed in a blur. Later, Ginny wouldn't be all that surprised at how little she remembered of the first half of the game. She remembered the Quidditch rush – it left little room for thought or logging anything away. She still hadn't had a chance to try an aerial when Millicent was suddenly slammed into the Hufflepuff bleachers by one of the Ravenclaw Beaters, who claimed to have gotten his broom "stuck" to hers, but who was, according to Madam Hooch ("and anyone with _eyes_!" Pansy bawled), _Blurting_ – deliberately locking broom handles with an opponent with the intent of causing a collision.

At a blast from Madam Hooch's whistle, Ginny blinked out of her Quidditch stupor and turned to see who was going on.

"Crimble did that on purpose," Hermione said darkly, nodding toward the Ravenclaw goalposts, which were less than ten feet away. "He knew we were going to score and he fouled to keep you from getting close to those goalposts, Gin."

"Why?" Ginny wanted to know.

"Because you've made every goal for our side this match," Betina said, drawing level with them as they watched Pansy help lift Millicent onto a floating stretcher. The Hufflepuff winced. "Hope she's okay."

"She'll be fine," Natalie said. "I was nearby when they collided. She didn't fall – it was a pretty controlled descent."

"She's just concussed and has a broken rib," Pansy confirmed furiously as she flew in to join them. "She'll still make it to the party tonight if she rests the rest of the day. But it could have been a lot worse. That complete bastard! I'll scratch his eyes out if he comes anywhere near me!"

"Shame about red cards," Ginny murmured, thinking about Dean Thomas and football. Hermione and Natalie grinned, too. As their grins faded, a horrible thought struck Ginny.

"Parkinson, who's replacing Bulstrode?" she demanded.

"Dunno," Pansy admitted, squinting at the benches below. Millicent was floating away with Madam Pomphrey and Draco was scowling as he spoke with Madam Hooch. "Draco sent me back into the air."

"Girls, we're about to start again," Susie said, sliding in beside Hermione. "Get ready."

"There'll be a penalty, no mistake," Pansy said as Susie, Betina, and Natalie flew out to their places. She and Hermione glanced at each other, then said, "Ginny?"

Ginny grinned and, in spite of her nerves and a gnawing feeling of dread about who Draco was going to send in Millicent's place, she was flattered.

A blast from Madam Hooch's whistle sent Ginny ahead to take the penalty. Sink it, she did, with a feint she followed through to the right goalpost. She had just realized she had no idea what the score was and was waiting for Colin to announced it when her heart stuttered. Jools was flying up to meet Natalie about halfway across the pitch.

"Steady," Pansy murmured, flying in to take up a new formation and seeing Ginny's face. "She's not going to take you out in front of the entire school. Ignore her, play the game."

"Right." Ginny took a deep breath, pushed her apprehension away, and fell into formation with Hermione and Pansy.

But it wasn't easy to ignore the threatening presence Jools had on the field. Ginny felt like she fumbled every pass. She did manage to score twice more, though she still hadn't used the aerial, but Jools seemed to be everywhere. She was like a phantom, sweeping across Ginny's line of sight when she most needed to concentrate.

"Weasley, what the hell?" Pansy snapped as they wheeled around after Ginny's latest dropped Quaffle.

"Sorry!" Ginny snarled back.

"Gin, I think you're going to get pulled," Hermione said suddenly, catching Ginny's arm as Madam Hooch's whistle blasted. Ginny followed Hermione's gaze. Her heart sank as she saw Draco conferring with Madam Hooch. He was pointing in the direction of his Chasers.

"I'm a failure," she moaned, shaking her head in despair.

"And it appears that Coach Malfoy is asking for another player rotation," Colin's voice echoed across the stadium. "Wait – yes, an exchange after the girls take another penalty. Seems the Boot twins were _Cobbing_ each other! That's excessively use of elbows and a penalty for each team. Family feuds off the pitch, mates!"

The crowd laughed, but Ginny looked around for Jools. She was hovering near the Ravenclaw goalpost, her brother Terry, the Ravenclaw Keeper, beside her. Jools was seething, and Terry looked upset. Ginny looked quickly away, not wanting to meet Jools' eyes.

"Gin, take this penalty," Hermione said, nudging her. She realized the whistle had blown and flew quickly forward.

"Weasley," Pansy called after her. Ginny winced as she glanced at her friend and nearly fumbled the Quaffle Terry tossed to her. Pansy raised her eyebrows and gestured briefly. Ginny understood, and despite her dismay, she felt a surge of strength. If she were kicked out now, at least she would go out with a bang.

She lined up on the Ravenclaw goals, eyeing Terry and trying not to think about his twin, who was just outside her line of sight. Terry watched her, his eyes sharp. _Like his sister's_, Ginny thought, her stomach tightening.

No! This was her strength. She was not going to fall apart now, especially if this was her last chance to impact the game. She bent forward over her broom and shot forward. In order not to get penalized for entering the Keeper's zone around the goals, she was going to have to time this exactly right. She didn't have as much speed as if she were traveling the length of the pitch.

She shot forward and waited for instinct to take over. It did moments later and she hopped herself into a crouch on her broom, Quaffle tucked between her legs and chest. The second jolt of intuition came and she jumped, sailing over the center hoop as her broom sailed below it and dropping the Quaffle through as she passed. Immediately, her eyes sought her broom and she landed neatly on it just beyond the hoop.

Her first aerial in competition, she thought with a giddy shiver and she banked back toward the field. She saw Hermione first – her friend was cheering and gave her a thumb's up. Natalie waved and Pansy whooped. Jools stared at her stonily and Ginny's smile slipped down to her toes, along with her stomach.

It was a relief when Chaser Eva Black had taken Ravenclaw's penalty and Ginny was removed from the game.

"Sorry, coach," Ginny murmured as she passed him and her replacement, Adrienne Abbot, on her way to the bench. She was surprised when Parvati passed her as well, heading _out_ to the field. "Wish me luck, Gin!" Parvati whispered, grinning giddily.

Ginny couldn't figure out what that meant until she saw, to her horror, that Parvati had flown up to join the team and Jools descended, stalking passed Draco and throwing herself onto the bench as far from Ginny as possible. Ginny glanced sideways, met a venomous glower, and was suddenly fed up.

"Get over yourself, Boot," she snapped down the bench before jumping up and shouting, "Go, Parvati!"

"Hypocrite!" Jools snarled as Ginny paused in her cheering to draw breath.

Ginny whirled to face her. "Look, I know what you think I did and if you won't let me convince you that you misunderstood – "

"Oh, please," Jools snorted. "I know what I saw."

"You don't know anything," Ginny retorted. She realized that her cheeks were flushed and her throat was burning. She blinked, nonplussed. She hadn't been this angry since Ron's stint to keep her from playing. She drew a deep breath. "And I don't want to tear this team apart with stupid drama. If you won't listen to me, then leave me the hell alone and don't let whatever your issues are ruin this team. You're supposed to be the captain. Act like it!"

"I might," Jools sneered. "And I might just take you off the team." She gave a mocking laugh. "I _am_ the captain."

"You're _a_ captain," Ginny said, more bravely than she felt. Inside, horror dripped down her spine like poison.

"My word carries some weight, you know," Jools said coolly. "Believe me, if I wanted you gone, I could make it happen."

She turned away before Ginny could respond and flounced into the lockers. Ginny stared after her with a ringing in her ears and a strange emptiness in her chest.

"You suddenly taking notice of idle threats, Weasley?"

Ginny jumped.

"Zabini," she muttered, sitting down hard on the bench.

"Idle threats, Weasley?" Blaise repeated. Ginny felt the bench shift as Blaise sat beside her.

"I – no, of course not," she said woodenly. It took a moment before she could finish. "But – but she _said_ it, Zabini." She felt her throat seared and several tears dribbled down her cheeks. "She _said_ she would kick me off the team." She brushed angrily at her eyes.

"She can't do that, and you know it," Blaise began bracingly.

"It's not that," Ginny cut him off. She looked him, as two more tears rolled off her nose. "She – she _threatened _me."

"So she's angry."

"It's more – more than that." She looked down at her gloved hands. "Zabini, she and I helped start this team. Before you or Malfoy, before the younger girls. She and I were two of the founders. We both worked our bums off to make it this far. I was thrilled when I – when I nominated her for captain. Over Hermione and Parvati. I chose Jools." Her face crumpled and she buried her face in her hands. She felt the warmth of Blaise's hand rubbing her back and it made her cry harder.

By the time she had got herself under control, Betina and Ravenclaw Seeker Jack Becker were diving for the Snitch. Becker was closer and a moment later, his hand closed around the gold ball. Ginny groaned, but wasn't really surprised. When it came to a race, Betina still wasn't quite as aggressive, though Ginny suspected the second year had spotted the Snitch first. She had a sharp eye.

"And after quite a close game, Becker has the Snitch, taking Ravenclaw to 200 points and leaving the opposing team with 80." Colin sounded impressed, in spite of himself. "Quite a close match. Look out, Slytherin and Hufflepuff!"

Ginny sank back against the wall of the lockers.

"Hey." Blaise nudged her arm. "You should be proud of me. Thanks to my expert training, you made every one of your team's goals."

"What'd we miss?" Patrice Patil and Hannah Abbot burst from the lockers. "We had to use the loos," Patrice explained. "And then some of our housemates found us to wish us luck if we got to play."

Ginny sighed.

"We lost, but we were ahead in points before Becker caught the Snitch," Blaise supplied.

"Go us!" Patrice said, clapping her hands and running out to meet the team as they descended. Hannah grinned and followed her out.

"I – I'm not sure I'm ready for them," she said to Blaise, feeling wobbly.

"Not to worry," Blaise said, hauling her to her feet. "You just get through the next hour and tonight, and I'll get you so drunk you won't be able to see straight, let alone think about anything."

Ginny couldn't help a smile.

**)BW(**

Draco knew sending Ginny and Jools out at the same time was a bad move the moment it was too late to fix it. He could have waited on Jools a bit, but Patil Sr.'s face when he called her out … well, he couldn't take it back.

He knew it had been a terrible mistake when he saw Ginny's face through his team crowded around him. Blaise was leaning in, talking quietly to her. She looked haggard, as if she had just come from a duel with no second, but something Blaise said made her smile, shake herself, and move to join the team. Draco ignored the impulse to demand of his best friend what he had been saying to the Chaser.

"Ginny! Ginny!"

The girls crowded around their fallen comrade, overflowing with praise.

" – every goal – "

"That Porskoff Ploy was genius – "

" – incredible aerial!"

"Stop, please!" Ginny's voice rose above the clamor and Draco saw her lip tremble. She was coming apart. "Did you see Hermione's Reverse Pass? And Betina's Wronski feint – she had everyone fooled and nearly made Becker crash! And Susie's Starfish and Stick stopped at least three Ravenclaw goals. Anyway," she added, pushing out her chin against the tremble of her lip, which Draco noticed was more pronounced than ever, "who am I without my team mates? Who wants to go see Bulstrode in the hospital?"

This was, Draco knew immediately, grounds for group hugging and a rush on the lockers. He got quickly away before he could be pulled in.

"Get her drunk tonight, Draco," Blaise murmured from beside him as they watched the carryings-on of the overexcited team. Draco realized peripherally that the girls' post-game improvement in spirits, despite their loss, was a big change from last match. "Get her drunk and for Merlin's sake, let her enjoy a _real _snog."

"I don't take advantage of girls when they're drunk, particularly if those girls are on my team," Draco retorted, glaring at his friend.

"Oh, it doesn't count if you're drunk, too, mate," Blaise assured him, with a shark-toothed grin. "This is going to be one hell of a party."

**)BW(**

"Ready, Gin?" Hermione poked her head through the sixth year girls' dormitory door to find Ginny sitting on her bed in her jimjams, going over her Muggle Studies homework.

"Ginny, what the hell?" Natalie pushed passed Hermione and strode to Ginny's bed, crossing her arms and flexing Beater's arms. In spite of herself, Ginny laughed.

"Never mind, it's not too late," Parvati said, following Hermione into the room and throwing open Ginny's trunk, which stood at the foot of her bed.

"Hey!" Ginny said a bit lamely as Parvati began rifling carelessly through it.

"We have to go soon, Gin, while everyone's at dinner," Hermione said patiently, sitting on the edge of Ginny's bed. Ginny shook her head as she looked her friend over. Hermione was mostly nerd, but a part of her was also pure fashion instinct. Tonight her long hair had been smoothed and top-knotted and she wore tight dark jeans and a shiny pink top. Ginny glanced down and saw that her friend was also wearing knee-high black boots.

"Merlin, don't you have _anything_ in here that isn't for Quidditch or class?" Parvati demanded, appearing over the foot of Ginny's bed with an exasperated expression. She didn't wait for an answer. "Never mind, I'll be back."

She disappeared through the dormitory door and they heard her pounding up the stairs toward the seventh year girls' dormitory.

"Don't worry," Hermione said, patting Ginny's knee. "She dressed me, too."

"That explains the boots," Natalie put in, grinning. She was also looking very pretty, in black pinstriped trousers and a sleeveless red roll-neck top.

"Look, this is nice of all of you," Ginny said, turning back to her homework. "But I can't go."

"Can't go?" Hermione repeated, staring at her. "Ginny, this was your first match. This little outing is practically _for_ you!"

"No, it isn't, it's for the team," Ginny said, more sharply than she meant to. "Anyway, I've got a lot of homework."

"Who doesn't?" Natalie pointed out, eyeing Ginny with evident concern. "Come on, just for a few hours."

"Look," Hermione said, "if this is what I think it's about, don't worry. That … problem … won't be there tonight. I had it from Zabini earlier."

Ginny glanced up quickly. Trust Hermione … but then, Hermione would have heard Harry's story about him and Pansy, about Draco and Ginny seeing them together, and about them claiming they were off to snog. She would have noticed Jools' combative behavior toward Ginny and would have put the pieces together.

She was, after all, a know-it-all.

"What's this fuss about, Ginny?" Parvati had returned, laden down with clothing, shoes, and makeup. Not waiting for a reply, she threw everything down on the bed beside Ginny's and began arranging different articles of clothing, muttering to herself as she went.

"Nothing. I was just being silly," Ginny said. If she was reading Hermione correctly, Jools wouldn't be at the Hogshead tonight, which meant that Ginny could go and have fun without having to worry about starting an international incident.

Or bursting into tears.

"Sorry, I'm ready," she finished, kicking her feet over the side of the bed and throwing out her arms in supplication. "Dress me."

The others laughed, obviously not concerned about the fuss so long as Ginny was coming after all.

Ten minutes later, she followed Hermione down the staircase to the common room, dressed in a dark blue scoop-necked top, a pair of dark jeans, and a pair of blue sequined ballet flats. Despite her worries about Jools actually deciding to show up tonight, Ginny couldn't help feeling tickled at the idea of sneaking out and getting to dance.

_And seeing Draco_, a part of her mind whispered. She was so startled that she almost jumped at the thought.

Because the school was at dinner, most of the corridors were deserted, including the corridor on the third floor where Hermione led them.

The corridor was empty.

"We're supposed to leave at different times, so there isn't an obvious mob of us trying to get out of the castle all at once," Hermione explained, moving briskly to the statue of the one-eyed witch. She tapped the hump without saying a word (practicing her wordless magic, Ginny decided) and it slid open.

"This is going to get dirty, isn't it?" Parvati asked, already scrambling up and through the hole.

"Are you a witch or aren't you?" Hermione retorted. "Hurry up, I would hate to get caught, and me, a prefect!"

Ginny followed Natalie and heard Hermione sealing the entrance behind them. They all lit their wands, the tunnel being pitch black, and slid down the dirt slide.

"Ugh, dirty bum!" Parvati complained, already casting cleaning charms. "Ginevra, you take care of those clothes."

"Yes, Mum," Ginny said, grinning as she waved her wand at the back of her jeans.

Their passage through the tunnel seemed to take a long time, but at last they climbed the other end and, trying to quiet their heavy breathing, crept out into the Honeydukes' basement.

"Disillusionment Charms," Hermione whispered, cracking herself over the head with her wand. The others did likewise and followed her up the stairs, through the unlocked door (Blaise's handiwork, Ginny assumed), and into the already darkening streets.

"That was easy," Natalie commented as the dingy doorway of the Hogshead came into view. Ginny had never been to the nightclub and had certainly never seen evidence of one during her brief visit to the pub for the very first D.A. meeting.

"Amazing what a little planning can do," Hermione said dryly as the pub's door creaked open and Blaise Zabini's head appeared through it.

"You're late," he said, and Ginny was surprised to see Hermione blush.

"_Some_ people were making a fuss about getting ready," she retorted, shooting Ginny a disapproving frown, as if to say that being late to a club was akin to being late to turn in homework.

"Typical," Blaise said, winking at Ginny. "It's okay, Granger, you look lovely."

Hermione went even redder. "I meant _Ginny_," she stressed, shouldering passed Blaise. Parvati, Natalie, and Ginny followed, choking down laughter.

"_Ginny_ looks nice, too," Blaise conceded easily, closing the door behind Ginny and following the group to a set of stairs at the other end of the bar.

"Is everyone else here?" Natalie asked, bouncing a bit as she walked.

"You're the last group," Blaise told her. "Everyone else has already had a round on Draco."

"Not sorry I missed that," Ginny mumbled. She might have grown up with six free-and-easy brothers, but she was still a lightweight and needed to let most of the evening pass before she risked drinking anything. She wanted to be able to _walk_ back to Hogwarts and look her team mates in the eye in the morning.

_The _coach_ might have to carry me,_ her traitorous brain piped up. She scowled, her ears burning at the very idea.

The noise from the club didn't carry at all into the bar, but the moment they set foot on the rickety staircase, the sounds of music, laughter, and dancing rose to meet them.

"This is so exciting!" Natalie called over the music. "I've never been to a club!"

"I can't imagine why," Parvati returned. "Girls, let's keep an eye on our baby."

"Hey!" Natalie said.

Ginny laughed and Hermione threw a reluctant smile over her shoulder. "If we're talking about babies, who's looking out for our Seeker?"

"I have it on good authority that she's not allowed to drink," Blaise put in from behind them. "Those're coach and captain's orders."

"Captain?" Ginny repeated in poorly concealed alarm.

"Bones." Thankfully, Ginny and Blaise were behind the others, so Blaise's quick pat on the shoulder went unnoticed. Ginny began to breathe again.

"I hear the same orders are in for anyone under fifth year," Blaise went on.

Natalie spluttered for a moment, then when quiet as they reached the floor.

"Bout time, lazy Gryffindor lot!" Pansy and Patrice Patil had pushed their way through the crowd and stood grinning up at them. Pansy had a drink – Patrice did not.

"And see that you stay away from the bar," Parvati said sternly to her sister.

"I wouldn't just for _you_, but coach and captain say I'm not to touch any of it," Patrice muttered.

"You're not missing anything." Hannah Abbot appeared as well, drink-free. "It's vile stuff, alcohol." She grinned a tentative grin at Pansy. "Isn't it, Parkinson?"

"Oh, yes, ghastly!" Pansy tossed back half her drink. "Rots you from the inside, you know." She threw an arm around Patrice and steered her away toward the dance floor. "Do yourself a favor, Patil, and listen to that Gryffindor sister of yours. She's talking complete sense, for once."

"The night is young, and Pansy can hold her liquor," Blaise murmured. "Can _you_ hold your liquor, Granger?" he added, rounding on Hermione.

"I – I don't actually know," she admitted.

Blaise gave her a look of mock-horror. "Don't _know_?" he repeated, slapping a hand over his heart. "Miss Granger, a woman in pursuit of knowledge and wisdom, doesn't know if she can hold her liquor? My _dear_ Granger, come with me immediately! Experiments must be done!"

Hermione made feeble protests as she was whisked away to the bar.

"Natalie, you're going to have to keep an eye on her tonight," Parvati said, staring after them.

"Why me?" Natalie asked nervously.

"Because you're the only Gryffindor who can't drink," Ginny teased, nudging her.

"Not even a half-shot?" Natalie wheedled. "Only I've heard fire whiskey does amazing things to your tongue."

"And your brain – don't even think about it, MacDonald."

The girls all turned to look at Draco, who had sauntered up. He followed their gaze to the bar and gave a disgusted snort.

"Prat," he muttered, eyeing Blaise. "He's subtle like the giant squid."

"Quite a bit more attractive and with fewer arms, though," Parvati pointed out, with a melodramatic sigh.

"Steady on, Patil, there are plenty of blokes here tonight," Draco assured her, sweeping his arm around. It was true that the room seemed to hold more boys than girls. Ginny was relieved to see that most of the boys appeared to be of school age, like them. She knew some of the seedier London clubs, of which her brothers had told many a story, could be dangerous, with men grabbing unsuspecting women and Disapparating with them. However, she had a feeling that, like most upper crust bar owners, Aberforth Dumbledore would have an anti-Apparation charm on the whole place and overage detection charms on the entrances that anyone over twenty-five would trigger.

"Going to stand there gaping all night?"

Ginny blinked at Draco and was surprised to see that they were alone. Natalie was making her way to a table at which Betina, Patrice, Adrienne, and, to Ginny's delight and surprise, exiled former Seeker Jessica Bentley sat. The underage girls were looking around eagerly at all the activity and seemed to be plucking up the courage to dance.

"I wasn't gaping," Ginny said, turning her attention to the coach. "I was – taking an observation." She took another surreptitious look, remembering Jools.

"She's not here," Draco told her, too easily guessing her purpose.

"You didn't really expect her to show up, did you?" Ginny said unhappily. She certainly didn't want Jools to be here, but she felt responsible.

"I asked her not to come," Draco said coolly. Ginny stared at him, opening her mouth angrily. He gave her a hard look that made her pause. Then he said, "Blaise told me what Jools said to you at the match. She was out of order and I told her if she couldn't control herself, she wasn't welcome tonight."

Ginny swallowed a sudden lump in her throat as the anger drained out of her. She opened her mouth to point out how much Jools must have been hurting to have said the horrible things she did, but what came out instead was, "Thank you."

"I don't need her damaging team morale," Draco said gruffly. "Yours or anyone else's. I don't care who she – " but he broke off. Clearing his throat, he said, "Come on, Weasley. You missed my first round of drinks."

Ginny grinned at him, her throat relaxing. "I'm saving up so I can keep my dignity till everyone else is too drunk to notice," she said.

Draco waved this away. "Very well, no alcohol at present." He took her arm and started through the crowd. Then he grinned, too. "Would it help if I let you use a straw?"

Ginny glared at him as best she could. "How about you buy me a Shirley Temple and we'll see how it goes?" she suggested, then groaned.

Draco, to his credit, kept a straight face as he said, "Those come with straws, you know."

"Shut up," Ginny ordered, nudging his shoulder before grabbing a free bar stool. Draco took the one beside her.

"Bartender!" he called, flourishing several sickles. "My star Chaser will have a Shirley Temple, with straw and umbrella and little cherry, and I shall have another shot of fire whiskey."

"Another?" Ginny demanded.

"_Star_ Chaser?" Pansy demanded from behind them.

"Star_lette_, then," Draco backpedaled as the drinks appeared before them and he swiped Ginny's cherry. "You're right, my dear Parkinson. You are older. You can be the star."

"I resent that," Hermione said from down the bar where she sat with Blaise.

"Zabini moves fast," Ginny murmured, noticing the glass and shot glass in front of Hermione, both empty.

"He's not the only one," Pansy said pointedly, looking at Draco.

"Quiet, you harlot," Draco commanded, with an imperious wave of the hand. "Weasley missed out on the rounds and I bought the other little girls non-alcoholic drinks. I can't deny her, you know. Poor diplomacy."

Ginny opened her mouth to object to being lumped with the "little" girls, when she saw someone out of the corner of her eye. She squinted, then let out a giggle, nudging Pansy. The Slytherin turned, following her gaze, and rolled her eyes.

"Oh, hell!" she muttered. "I told him not to come, we'll get found out."

"If you didn't want him to come, why'd you tell him we'd be here?" Ginny asked mischievously.

"Oh, zip it, Weasley and who says _Granger _didn't tell him?" Pansy said irritably as she stalked away. Ginny and Draco watched her approach the shadowy figure lurking in a corner of the club. They could see her waving her arms expressively about and weren't all that surprised when the shadowy figure eventually grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and kissed her.

"That's Potter in a nutshell," Draco said derisively. "Don't listen to reason, just dive right in."

Ginny tilted her head on one side. "One of them's going to suffocate if they don't take a breath."

"Weasley, you voyeur," Draco said, not sounding at all surprised.

"Hi, six older brothers," she said. "I've seen more snogging than most of the people in this room, combined." She grinned. "You know Ron. Weasleys don't do subtle."

"I've noticed that." Draco turned back to his drink and winced, probably at the thought of Ron snogging. Ginny could relate.

"What've you noticed?" she asked, sipping her own drink.

"I mean, I've noticed you don't do subtle. You're the one who used to question everything I did as a coach." He tossed back the shot, squeezed his eyes shut, and shook his head. Then he grinned a crooked grin that made Ginny's heart flutter. It gave an unpleasant jolt of surprise in reaction to the flutter.

_I _used_ to have control of my body_, she thought. _What happened_?

"And my lack of subtlety still bothers you?" she asked.

"No, you were usually right."

Ginny gaped at him. He let the grin widen a bit and Ginny's ears began to burn again. "That doesn't mean you should be mouthing off all the time."

Ginny scowled. "So you give me laps."

"I _was_ going to give you two hundred after all your fumbles today," he told her. She protested loudly and he cut her off, "_But_ you did score every goal this match. So it's only going to be fifty and catching practice with Blaise."

"Taking my name in vain, Malfoy?" Blaise appeared beside them, Hermione with him and looking mildly bewildered.

"Zabini," Ginny said admonishingly, nodding toward Hermione. "Really, already?"

"Hey, I'll keep an eye on her," Blaise said placidly, smiling at his companion. "She hasn't even had enough to be hung-over."

"I resent you speaking about me as though I were your pet," Hermione said primly, drawing herself up and waggling her finger in his face, narrowly missing poking him in the eye. "I also resent that you're demeaning me in the eyes of my coach." She turned to Draco, looking as severe as Professor McGonagall. "I resent you giving Ginny so many laps, coach. It's uncalled for." She waved her finger at him, too, but Blaise caught her hand and pulled it away from Draco's nose.

"Now, now, Granger," he said coaxingly. "Mustn't say anything you'll regret in the morning."

"I'll have you know, Zabini, that I am in perfect control," she said, leaning in a bit closer than was necessary and speaking loudly. "_I_ can hold my liquor." She turned around with her nose in the air and almost fell over a chair in her path. Blaise was ready and caught her.

"Thank you," she said stoutly. She squinted. "Is that Harry over there?"

"Harry? Who's Harry?" Blaise said quickly, pulling her away in the opposite direction with a wink at Ginny and Draco.

"You know very well who _Harry_ is," Hermione reprimanded him as she was led back to her bar stool. "He's a _hero_, Blaise. I mean Zabini – "

Ginny turned back to Draco and said warningly, "If you take pictures of her in this state or pay others to do so, I will skin you alive."

"Violent, much?" Draco chuckled. "Don't worry, I wouldn't ruin Granger's pristine reputation. Blaise wouldn't like it."

"Very giving of you," Ginny quipped, impressed in spite of herself. Blaise was obviously right about what was really going on with Draco. Rough and selfish he might appear to be, but there was so much more going on in his head than that. Ginny supposed that Draco himself didn't know about most of it. At the warm thoughts flooding her mind, Ginny felt the horrifying blush creep from her ears to her cheeks.

"I'm going to find Parvati and Susie," she said abruptly, hopping up.

"You've barely touched your drink," Draco protested, leaning back on the bar to regard her with the lopsided grin and swiping the little umbrella.

"Buy me something stronger later," she said boldly, before moving hastily away to find her friends.

"Sober enough to dance with me like you promised?" she asked when she found the captain and Beater. Neither had more than two glasses in front of them.

"Oh, yeah!" Parvati hopped up eagerly. "Let's see if the younger girls want to join in."

Most of them did and soon they had formed a tight circle on the dance floor.

Ginny let her anger at Jools, her thoughts about Quidditch, and her strange new twitchiness around Draco melt into the music as she began to move, laughing at the antics of her team mates.

**)BW(**

Draco watched Ginny pull the others onto the floor with her. Her hair flew. Her shoulders, hips, and feet moved in natural rhythm to the blaring music. She was laughing as she danced with each of her friends. He saw Hannah Abbot pull Millicent, officially fully recovered as of three-thirty that afternoon, in to join them and Ginny move to include them. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off her. She glowed as she moved under one of the flashing lights, dripping red and blue and freckles.

He shook his head, very grateful Jools wasn't there.

"Malfoy, fancy meeting you here."

Draco actually jumped. He turned what he suspected was a pathetic attempt at a glower on his adversary.

"My team is celebrating, Potter," he said shortly.

"I'd noticed," Potter returned. He waved at the bartender. "Two shots of fire whiskey."

Draco's eyebrows shot up. "You're keen."

Potter rolled his eyes. "One's for you. Git."

"Hey. I resent that," Draco said after another moment of surprised gaping.

"You're starting to sound like me, coach," Granger said loudly down the bar. "You're getting drunk." She beamed at Potter. "Hey, Harry. Have you pooped – I mean, popped the question?"

Draco noticed with some satisfaction that Potter was turning red and glaring at his friend. "Hermione, tell Zabini I'm going to kill him."

"No, no, you mustn't!" Granger cried, looking alarmed. "You have to kill Voldemort, Harry."

Potter's face relaxed into a small smile. "Don't worry, Mione. Got you covered."

"Oh, good." Granger beamed again.

"Potter, stop monopolizing my date," Blaise said around her, grinning when she gave a squawk of protest.

"Just make sure she makes it home safely," Potter said with what he probably thought was a menacing scowl.

"Don't worry your pretty little knickers about her," Blaise returned. "She's safe with me."

"See, Harry?" Granger leaned back against Blaise's side as he put a casual arm around her shoulders. "I'm _safe_ with Blaise." She looked very serious all of a sudden. "So you can go defeat the Dark Lord if you want. I'm fine here."

"I thought you were coming with me," he said, the small smile still on his face as he watched her affectionately.

"Oh, Harry!" she wailed, her lip trembling. "Of course I am! You have no brains without me."

"Charming," Potter muttered as Draco and Blaise roared with laughter.

"Oy!"

Pansy appeared beside Potter, keeping a respectful distance between them. Draco didn't know why she bothered. The way she and Potter had been carrying on earlier, the entire club probably knew they were together.

"Is that whiskey for me?" she demanded.

"Well …" Potter said, utterly failing to surprise Draco with his complete lack of subtlety as he grinned at Pansy.

"You can't possibly be buying drinks for _Draco_," she said darkly. "You haven't bought me a thing."

"I just did," he said, pushing his shot toward her.

"Oh, come _on_!" Pansy leaned indecently close to him, grabbed Draco's shot away from him, and pushed it into Potter's hands. "I can't take a shot _by myself_."

"Harry." Potter turned to look down the bar at Granger, who was eyeing him disapprovingly. "You mustn't buy Parkinson drinks." For a horrible moment, Draco thought she was going to say something to officially blow Pansy's cover. Then she said, "She's our _star_ Chaser. Coach says so. Which I resent." She paused, apparently attempting to find her train of thought. At last, she finished triumphantly, "Pansy Parkinson mustn't be drunk. We have to play Quidditch!"

Potter laughed, looking relieved. "Don't worry, Hermione. I'll take good care of her."

"Come do so now," Pansy ordered, clinking her shot glass against his, tossing hers back, and dragging him off to the dark corner again.

"No, I don't like it, Blaise," Granger added. "Harry will distract her from Quidditch."

Draco turned away from them, realizing Potter's shot was still on the counter where he had just managed to set it before being whisked precipitately away. Draco picked it up and, a plan in his already fuzzy mind, went in search of Ginny.

He found her resting at a table with the others.

"I found this lying around," he said by way of a greeting, pushing the shot at her. "Now I've bought you a drink you'll actually enjoy. My work here is done."

"Coach, are you a bit …?" Jessica trailed off, grinning.

"Certainly not!" Draco felt indignant as the other girls tittered. "I'll have none of this questioning the mighty wisdom of the coach rubbish. Or it's laps and stretching for you all!"

Ginny groaned. "Anything but that." She paused, biting her lip. "Fine, I'll take this shot. But only if you'll dance with us, coach."

Draco deliberated. He was a decent dancer without alcohol and an exceptional one with it.

"Very well, I shall grace the dance floor with my presence," he decided. He offered one arm to Ginny, then hastily offered the other to Parvati Patil. She seemed to need it. She leaned against him, laughing and letting out a hiccup.

Ginny released him as soon as their feet touched the floor, lifted her arms (shot in one hand), and danced her way to the center of the floor. The others followed with varying degrees of success.

"You're such a good dancer, Gin!" Susie Bones called over the music. Draco privately agreed.

"Not really," Ginny said modestly as she shimmied in a circle. "I just like it is all. So I don't care what I look like."

"Well, it's objectively true that you look good when you dance," Millicent put in grudgingly.

"I think it's true that if you love dancing so much you don't care what you look like, you're bound to impress people," Natalie MacDonald put in.

"Exactly!" Ginny agreed, doing something interesting and extremely diverting with her hips.

"The coach is quite good as well," Patil Sr. put in, giggling.

"Yes, I know," Draco said airily. He _was_ quite good when he was drinking. Drunk. Whatever.

"Modest, too." Ginny smirked at him across the dance circle.

"You two would look good together," Millicent said wickedly.

"Oh, go on!" the others added as Ginny shook her head.

"Are you calling me repulsive, Weasley?" Draco demanded, more seriously than he meant to. Damn shots.

"Are you _scared_, Ginny?" Jessica called.

Still bouncing, Ginny stared hard at him before bringing her shot glass to her lips and tossing back her fire whiskey. She did the traditional fire whiskey pucker, shook her head, and blinked at Draco. Her eyes narrowed and after a moment, she danced her way across the circle to him, catching his hands. After a moment of watching him, she found a rhythm and joined him.

The part of Draco's brain that was still sober told him to move away immediately. The part that was happily sloshing with alcohol kept him where he was, enjoying the enticing closeness of red and blue and Ginny's warm, dry hands in his.

The girls were cat-calling and Draco saw, with distant alarm, that most of them were just swaying a bit as they watched him with Ginny.

"They're right, Malfoy." Ginny grinned up at him as Draco turned his eyes to hers. "You're quite good. Is it because you're drunk?"

"Even if I _am_ drunk, I'll still remember if I give you laps, Weasley," he warned her.

"I'm trembling," she mocked. "Because I never get laps and I certainly never dare to do anything to upset you!"

"Smart-arse," Draco muttered, enjoying the pink glint of her lips in the flickering light.

"Drunk." Ginny moved a bit closer.

Draco couldn't think of a comeback, so he just grinned at her. He could have sworn her cheeks went pinker, though it might have been a trick of the light. He didn't really care – she was glittering under the lights and she was close and warm.

_I hadn't realized I wanted this_, the drunk bit of his mind said thoughtfully, while the sober part beat feebly at it.

"Malfoy? Draco?"

He blinked at her. She wasn't much shorter than he was, so he didn't have to look down too far. Her expression was hesitant, but determined.

"Yes, Weasley, Ginevra?"

She grinned. "Buy me another drink?"

He chuckled. "I thought the night was still young, Weasley."

"Yes, well." She cleared her throat. "I also want to check on Hermione."

"I think Granger can take care of herself," Draco pointed out.

"But she would never forgive me if I didn't at least try to save her dignity with Zabini hanging around," Ginny insisted.

"Far be it from me to deny you anything," Draco said, realizing that it was the second time that night that he had talked about not denying her things. Ah, well. There would be plenty of time for regret tomorrow. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her off toward the bar, ignoring her raised eyebrows.

"Ginny! You're back!" Granger enthused. She was now leaning back against Blaise's chest, a hazy look in her eyes. He was apparently exercising some self-control because there were no glasses in front of him and he still only had one arm around her, mostly holding her up on the stool.

"I'm back," Ginny agreed easily, stopping in front of her friend. She hadn't let go of Draco's hand and he took the opportunity to lace their fingers together. She made no move to pull away, but tucked their hands against her lower back. "Hermione," she said seriously, but with a traitorous twitch of the lip. "Are you drunk?"

Granger blinked at her. "You know, Gin," she said with dawning comprehension. "I might be." She glanced back at the bar in front of her, on which sat a variety of empty glasses and two shots. "Imperial – I mean, empirical evidence suggests ... but you know, there are so many interesting drinks." She grinned brightly. "Blaise has bought me ever so many." She frowned. "But I'm not supposed to call him Blaise, am I?"

"You can call me whatever you like," Blaise assured her, settling his arm gently over her stomach.

"Yes, that's all very well, but will I regret it later?" Granger said severely, tilting her head up to try and look him in the eye. She narrowed her eyes, a comical feat given that she was essentially staring up at the ceiling. "Did you get me drunk on _purpose_?"

"It was an experiment," Blaise stressed. "Now we know your limit."

"Do we, though?" Granger asked, finally turning herself right around so she could look Blaise, albeit unsteadily, in the eye. "I find I can't remember how many shots I had before I started to feel like this."

"I think it was the first one, actually," Blaise admitted. "But there were so many other pretty drinks to try."

"That's true." Granger leaned in so that her face was inches from his. "Do you … arm wrestle, Blaise who I should be calling Zabini?"

Blaise blinked. "I … don't know."

"Let's find out, shall we?" Granger grabbed his hand and slid unsteadily from her bar stool. "Get me a table."

"Bye, Mione," Ginny said faintly. Granger gave an enthusiastic wave over her shoulder and Blaise had to stop her elbow breaking his nose.

"Well, you did your best," Draco said, tugging her hand.

"I did," Ginny agreed. "Pray Zeus this doesn't get back to Ron." She turned to face Draco, smiling shyly. "I believe you were going to buy me a drink?"

He bought her several drinks, although as she tended to like the fruity mixed ones with less alcohol, she lasted a lot longer than he expected. He felt the unsloshed part of his brain slowly drowning under another shot of fire whiskey and a Wicked Warlock Wiggler. He couldn't recall anything too clearly, though he expected he and Ginny had talked as they drank. He might have told her more about how good a Chaser she was.

"I'm … feeling a bit warm," Ginny said, downing the last of her Peppermint Pixie and leaning heavily on the bar.

"I share that sentiment," Draco said grandly, making two tries for her hand before securing it. "Shall we step out?"

They wound their way through the crowds. Draco saw, once his eyes caught up with his head, that most of the team were now on the dance floor. He couldn't see Pansy or Potter anywhere, but near the dance floor, Granger was sitting across a table from Blaise, staring fixedly at their joined hands. She counted to three and then grabbed his arm with both hands. Throwing all her weight on it, she forced the back of his hand to the table.

"Yay, I win again!" she crowed gleefully.

"You're fight dirty when you're drunk, Hermione," Blaise said, grinning as he massaged his fingers.

"I don't, either!" Granger said indignantly. "And you mustn't say _Hermione_ in that appealing way because I can't resist you."

Blaise smiled so wide that Draco saw his teeth flash. "You're fortunate, then," he said, patting her hand, "that's I'm still able to resist _you_. Mind you, it isn't easy."

Granger leaned on her free hand, grinning blearily at him. "That's veeeery nice of you to say, Blaise."

Ginny giggled, leaning into Draco's side.

"She's going to be veeeery upset tomorrow," the redhead said, hiccupping as Draco pulled her up the stairs. He found he had to use the wall for support.

"So will you," he pointed out, pulling her across the dingy upstairs pub and out into the cool night air. "You're drunk, Gin."

"So're you,_Draco_," she retorted, giggling again. "You're gonna be so hung … hung …" She frowned.

"Hung-over?" Draco suggested, leaning back against the cool brick wall of the Hogshead.

Ginny leaned back beside him, still clutching his hand. "That's the one," she said, nodding a little more than was necessary. Watching her hair, which was glistening in the light of the lantern that hung by the Hogshead entrance, Draco felt a bit lightheaded.

"Stop moving so much," he ordered, blinking.

"Or what, _coach_?" she said, still nodding away happily.

"Or I'll make you stop," he said, taking her face in both hands and holding her head still. She looked back at him with a bemused expression. Slowly, a little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"You're very close to me, Draco," she pointed out quietly.

"Am I?" he said conversationally. Then he blinked. "You just called me Draco. In a normal way."

"It's not my fault," she protested. "I'm drunk."

"I don't mind," he assured her, having long ago surrendered to the total decay of his common sense.

"But you said to call you_ coach_," she said softly, leaning a bit closer as though she were sharing an awful secret.

"I said that when I was sober," he pointed out, leaning in himself.

"Lots of things are different when you're sober, aren't they?" she whispered, biting her lip.

"I guess," he returned, not knowing what he was saying. All he knew was that she was close enough that he could lick her lips if he wanted to. He decided he _did _want to about the time that Ginny tipped forward onto his mouth.

"Mmph," she said, then, "Mmm." Draco agreed, using his hands, still cupping her face, to pull her closer. She grinned against his mouth, opening her own under his. Her hands brushed against his sides, probably trying for something to hold onto. He was dizzy, and pulled her with him to lean against the convenient brick wall.

She pulled back a bit, leaning her forehead against his and breathing heavily. Her breath mingled with is, a pleasant blend of run and tequila.

"I think we wouldn't be doing this," she panted, getting a firm grip on his shirt, "if we weren't blind drunk."

"I think you're right," he agreed, trying to catch his breath. "So what do we do?"

Her face was so close that he almost missed her feral grin. "Take shameless advantage of each other till we come to our senses?"

He laughed, a happier sound than he had made in years. "I like your thinking, Ginerva."

"Gin_erva_?" she squawked indignantly, trying to pull back to glare properly at him. "What a horrible thing to call someone!"

"I apologize," Draco said, his eyes fixed on her mouth. "As I said, I'm drunk."

Ginny's face relaxed in a lopsided smile that made Draco's stomach twitter. "You are that." Then she wound her arms up his chest and around his neck and pressing her nose against his. He turned his face just a bit found her mouth. It was sweet and her lips were swollen from the first kiss. He caught one between his teeth and she sighed.

Draco wasn't sure how long they stayed out there under the flickering lantern. He suspected that other club-goers had passed them on their respective ways home. He suspected there had been cat-calls. He thought maybe it was time to go round up the team and get everyone back.

He might not have done anything at all for the rest of his life if he hadn't been hauled backwards by the collar by a big, familiar hand.

"Steady on," he growled.

"You'll thank me in about ten seconds," came Blaise's voice over his shoulder. "The rest of the team is coming."

"Ginny!" Granger swam into view, stumbling over to Ginny, who hadn't taken her eyes off Draco and was leaning heavily against the wall, looking thoroughly ravished. Granger bore down on her as steadily as she could. "Ginny, you can't snog him!" Draco saw Ginny open her mouth to protest, but Granger added, "Anyone could see you here! Be good like Harry and find a dark corner."

"Now, now, Hermione," Blaise said, letting go of Draco and pulling Granger gently away from Ginny. "Let's keep our voice down. The joy of being a know-it-all is keeping certain things to yourself."

"Don't you patronize me," Granger protested, leaning into his side and looking up at him severely. "Just because you bought me copious expensive drinks and are irresistible …"

At this point, the rest of the team came pouring out of the Hogshead, making enough noise to wake the entire village.

"I'm _never_ going to make it back to … to … to that place we go t'school," Parvati Patil said, leaning against her sister.

"You're such a positive role model," her sister said grumpily. "Little help, Nat? Jessica?"

"Where's Pansy?" Millicent bellowed. "I haven't seen her all night and she promised to dance with me." Her lip trembled as she looked pitifully at Blaise. "She _promised_."

"I'm here, I'm here." Pansy appeared behind the group, moving to Millicent's side and putting an arm under her shoulders. She shook her head. "And not stone blind with alcohol like most of you."

Ginny sniggered. "Wonder why _that_ is," she murmured, with surprising subtlety, considering how drunk Draco thought she probably was.

"Are we all here?" Blaise asked, stepping quickly between Ginny and Pansy for the preservation of all and pulling Granger with him.

"Yup." Adrienne Abbot nodded. "I took a head count."

"Good, let's get back."

Blaise met Draco's eye and raised an eyebrow. Draco snorted. "I can _walk_, Zabini."

"Good," Blaise said briskly, "because I'm probably going to have to carry Hermione."

"I don't mind," Granger said, clearly so far gone that she had no idea what she was saying anymore. She grinned up at Blaise, blinking hazily. "You have lovely teeth."

"Can _you_ walk, Ginny?" MacDonald piped up, apparently noticing how heavily Ginny was leaning on the wall.

"I'm fine!" Ginny said indignantly, pushing off the wall and wobbling a moment before catching her balance.

"Walk with me, Gin." Hannah Abbot came forward and linked arms with her. Draco made a move toward her, but Blaise, who was clearly watching him closely for signs that he would do anything stupid, pulled him back.

"Let's go, and_quietly_," he said, which naturally produced a loud series of shushing noises from all of the tipsy members of the group.

"We're _never_ going to get back in," Granger told him, leaning in so close that her nose was almost touching his cheek. She looked suddenly horrified. "I'll get _demoted_!"

"Nonsense," Blaise said. "Being drunk makes you talk complete rubbish."

"Anyway, there aren't _that_ many prefects actually left in the castle," Draco realized. "At least four of us are here right now."

They made it to Honeydukes, and Blaise and the non-drunk members of the group performed the appropriate charms to get them into the basement. Draco didn't remember much of the trip after that, but apparently they made it back because he did remember standing with Ginny, Blaise, Millicent, and Pansy in the third floor corridor.

"Draco, can you find your way back to the common room by yourself?" Blaise asked, taking Millicent's weight from Pansy.

Draco gave him a look that hopefully indicated scorn and offense. "I certainly can, you prat."

"I'll take Weasley back," Pansy offered.

"Say goodnight and come straight home," Millicent said severely to Draco.

He blinked and suddenly found himself alone in the moonlit corridor with Ginny.

"I thought Pansy was going to take you back," he said blankly.

"I'm hiding behind this statue until you two are done snogging," came a disembodied voice from behind the humpbacked witch.

"Oh. Thanks."

He looked across at Ginny, who gave an unexpected yawn and rubbed her eyes. She grinned sleepily at him, making his chest thrum. "So," she said.

"So." He was exhausted, he realized, and more than a little confused.

"You going to kiss me goodnight or do I have to come over there?" she murmured.

Well, there was no resisting _that_ invitation.

"Goodnight, Draco," she whispered against his mouth before pulling away and stepping a respectful distance back. "I expect things are going to be very, very awkward tomorrow."

"I expect so," he agreed. He eyed her carefully. "Do you regret it?"

"Nah, I'm saving that for tomorrow, too," she assured him as Pansy appeared beside her.

Draco didn't know how he found his way back to the Slytherin dormitory, but as he fell into bed, still dressed, he felt the same warmth that had driven he and Ginny outside before. It was a tingly warmth that intensified as he fell asleep with Ginny's kiss still fresh on his lips.

**)BW(**

Ginny felt a horrible pounding in her scull when she opened her eyes the next morning. She glanced over and noticed that for some reason, Hermione and Parvati were in her bed with her.

Her first thought was that she had hit an oncoming train with her head over and over. Her second thought was that she wished she didn't know what hangovers felt like.

Her third thought made her sit straight up in bed and shout, "Oh, Merlin, no!" at about the same time Hermione sat up shouting, "Jesus _god_!" and Parvati moaned, "Death now!"

Ginny's fourth thought as the three of them sank further into their pillows with the same searing pain behind their eyes and vile taste in their mouths was that none of them could ever, ever get out of bed again.

When Natalie burst in, fresh faced, absolutely not hung-over, and singing some dreadful Muggle song about good little boys and girls staying in at night, they unwisely threw their pillows at her.

Ginny's final thought as Natalie pointed and laughed at them was, _No pillow. Hate scull. Snogged coach. Am screwed._

**)BW(**

TBC


	13. The Darkness Rising

A/N: Instant disclaimer/apology – this chapter is definitely a plot mover-aheader. I had such good fun crafting the last chapter, with the drunkeness and the arm wrestling and the snogging under dingy street lamps and the lovely teeth and so on. This chapter is much more serious and, though I thought about adding a ton more to it, I also thought you all might like some more to read, so instead of adding ten thousand more words, I'm posting early.

Hope you enjoy!

Loves,

J.T.

Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.R.'s. Sincerest thanks to the Goddess of pro-fic for a world in which I can gaily romp until I'm ready to create my own.

**)BW(**

"What're the odds," came Hermione's disembodied voice sometime later, "that no one would notice if we didn't get out of bed for the rest of the week?"

"Mione, you can't have done something so terrible that you'd miss your N.E.W.T. classes," Parvati's muffled voice came from under her pillow.

"I'm staying in bed today," Ginny told them, wondering if the terrible taste in her mouth and the pounding in her temples would last that long.

"Are you mad?" Parvati actually turned her head to look at the sixth year. "I'm starving!"

"D'you suppose I could have all my class work sent here for the rest of the year?" Hermione said seriously, rolling onto her back with her arm draped over her eyes. "I got a hundred and twenty percent on my last Transfiguration essay."

"How are you going to practice Quidditch if you're stuck up in your dormitory?" Parvati demanded. "Have a little sense, Hermione."

"Quidditch!" Ginny and Hermione groaned, burrowing deeper under the duvet.

"I can't go to Quidditch!" Hermione wailed. "_He_ might show up and I must never see _him_ again."

"Gosh, I wonder who she's talking about," came Natalie's voice from the doorway.

"Don't say the name!" Hermione hissed through the curtains enclosing Ginny's bed. "Someone might _hear_ you!"

"Ginny's dorm mates are long gone," Natalie said. Ginny could hear her rolling her eyes. "As we should be. It's nearly lunch."

"She's right," Parvati said with a heavy sigh. The seventh year pushed herself onto her elbows, kicked her legs over the side of the bed, and slid onto the floor. Ginny and Hermione peered through the hangings at Parvati's prone form.

"I'm o-kay," she assured them, struggling to sit up. "Nat, an arm, please."

Natalie hauled her fellow Beater to her feet and supported her as she weaved an unsteady path to the door.

"You two can't hide in here forever, you know," the third year pointed out. "If Harry and Ron don't find you, the coach will."

Ginny yanked the hangings closed and buried her burning face in Parvati's abandoned pillow.

"Ginny," Hermione said, peering anxiously at her from under their tent of blankets. "What am I going to do?"

"What are _you_ going to do?" Ginny repeated incredulously. "You didn't – you didn't – " She broke off as the blush crept down her neck.

"You _didn't_, either," Hermione pointed out. She paused, wrinkling her brow. "Oh, wait …"

"Great, the thing you had to remember …" Ginny muttered.

"Go on, I won't say anything," Hermione said huffily. "Do I look like a total prat?"

"Well, with your hair just that way – ow!" Ginny rubbed her arm.

"Too right." Hermione bit her lip. "Ginny, I was arm wrestling him! And I think," she added with no little horror, "I think I told him he had lovely teeth."

"Well, of all his features, Zabini's teeth are probably the best – hey! Enough with the hitting!" Ginny rubbed her shoulder, glaring.

"I'm serious, Gin, I can't ever see him again."

"At least he's not the coach!" Ginny pointed out miserably. Oh, _god_, what had she done? "I thought Jools was bad before, but now…"

"What do you mean?" Hermione said, propping herself up on her arm and finally focusing properly on the severity of Ginny's situation.

"Okay, so she was in a strop about something I supposedly did with Dra – _with the coach_," Ginny began, her worries unraveling like a ball of string down a hillside, "and that was before there was anything to be angry about! Now there's actually something out there – oh, never mind she doesn't actually_ know_ that! _I_ know and now I won't be able to act normal around Dra – around _Malfoy_ ever again in my life. How am I supposed to go to training and not act like I've got GUILTY printed on my forehead?"

"I don't know about that," Hermione said slowly. "But I think you're missing a very important point. You don't owe Jools anything. I'm sorry she's upset, as I'm sure you are. But she accused you of something you didn't do and then wouldn't let you prove you _didn't_ do it. To begin with, you didn't owe her an explanation then. Malfoy shouldn't be messing any of us girls about, but if that was the_real_ issue here Jools wouldn't be in any kind of strop." Hermione paused to draw breath, cough (her mouth was probably all cottony like Ginny's), and crack a smile. "Anyway, this is different. Malfoy isn't, or wasn't, that I can remember, taking any more advantage of you than you were of him. Am I right?"

Ginny hadn't thought she could blush any more. She was probably purple. Too embarrassed to speak, she only nodded.

"So …" Hermione bit her lip some more. "Okay, I agree that it's inappropriate for you to be in a relationship with the captain, for the moment."

"So …" Ginny felt a droop coming on. She hadn't even _wanted_ to be with him, but now … "So I should just try to act normal, like nothing happened?"

"Well," Hermione said. "Yes. To a point."

"To a point?"

"Well, relationships are _official_, right?" Ginny nodded, not quite sure she was following. Hermione went on. "I mean, we might say that Hannah Abbot and George Briggs are _in_ a relationship. As in, they're officially seeing each other and everyone who's ever walked into an empty classroom on the fifth floor knows about it." Ginny giggled, her face cooling. "However," Hermione continued, "Harry and Parkinson are _not_ officially in a relationship. So far, only you, Malfoy, _that boy_, probably Bulstrode, and me know about it, right?"

"You're going all red, Hermione," Ginny pointed out.

"See? How am I going to function if he comes anywhere near me?" Hermione demanded. "God, we've got three classes together tomorrow. I will never, _ever_ survive."

"But you were saying," Ginny went on quickly, "about not official relationships and so on."

"Right," Hermione said, still wincing. "So nobody knows about Harry and Parkinson, do they? Therefore, they can _carefully_ carry on a relationship that doesn't affect the team or anyone else."

"So you're saying," Ginny said doubtfully, "that I _could_ carry on with – with whatever Malfoy and I are doing, but keep it a secret, and it wouldn't matter in terms of team ethics?"

"Yes," Hermione said simply. "Whether or not you're actually _seeing_ Malfoy, his feelings for you are going to affect his behavior. He's done a nice job of being objective, not letting you play more than the others and so on, but he has a special way of looking at you."

"Which Jools has probably seen, if you're right," Ginny mumbled, unaccountably ashamed of herself.

"Fine, but that's not _your_ fault," Hermione said firmly, rubbing a hand over Ginny's tense back. "You know that, don't you? The only manner in which _any_ of this has anything legitimately to do with Jools is if it negatively affects the dynamic of the team. _Jools_ is negatively affecting the dynamic of the team, but that's _her_choice, _her_ responsibility. And you don't see anyone but her having a strop at you. I really hate saying this, but Malfoy runs a good team. You'll notice we're all content and we all work hard. We can't always play but no one is ever bothered by that, are they? Because they know that they'll get a chance. In the meantime, _everyone_ gets equal practice time and attention from the coach."

"There's something Zabini said to me," Ginny remembered. "The day he said I should ask Dra – _Malfoy_ to be our coach. Zabini said Malfoy would want to train _me_."

"And he obviously does," Hermione agreed. "And maybe that sole consideration brought him to the team. But if he was really only thinking about training you, _we_ wouldn't be a team at all right now."

Ginny recognized the chide in her friend's voice and flinched. "Sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded."

Hermione smiled. "I'm sure you didn't."

They lay in silence for a moment, feeling the surprising warmth of sun pushing through the tower window and through the hangings around Ginny's bed.

"Mione," Ginny said at last. "Is there really anything wrong with trying something with Zabini?"

Hermione's eyes went round and she actually paled.

"You're – you're not afraid, are you?" Ginny ventured after a moment.

"What? No, of course not!" Hermione pursed her lips. "It's only that – well." She squinted, a look Ginny recognized from Quidditch that meant Hermione was trying to mathematically calculate the angle at which to throw the Quaffle. When she got like this, she missed goals, passes, and even had trouble controlling her ascent or descent. The trouble was that Hermione was so left-brained most of the time that relying on instinct or – in the case of Blaise – attraction was counterintuitive. She tended to try to contextualize her impulses.

Like actually trying to do all her schoolwork from Ginny's bed for the rest of the year.

"You weren't expecting it?" Ginny suggested.

"Yes, exactly." Hermione looked stern all of a sudden. "Is it that obvious?"

"Er – only to me," Ginny assured her quickly. "And possibly to Harry. Ron – well, he's a bit daft. I expect he'd notice if you and Zabini _eloped_ …"

Hermione rolled her eyes and went red again. "Tell me." She turned over onto her back, stretched, and groaned. "I suppose we have to leave some time and I badly need food and water." She glanced at Ginny. "Will you come with me?"

Ginny hesitated.

"Go on," Hermione wheedled. "Parvati and Nat will protect us. Anyway, it's Sunday; no Quidditch practice."

Ginny sighed. "The sooner I adjust to acting normally around him, the better."

**)BW(**

When Draco awoke, with pounding head and parched throat, it was to find Blaise Zabini leaning over him.

"Draco, mate, wake up." Blaise's voice was quiet as he jostled Draco's shoulder.

"Get away, Zabini," Draco mumbled. He would never drink again.

"Never mind that, you've had an owl and Jessica needs to speak to you." Blaise jostled him again.

"I – Jessica?"

"Former Seeker, second year? She's outside the door. You ought to speak with her before you have your post." Light pierced Draco's eyelids as Blaise yanked back the hangings around his four-poster. Draco would have buried his head under his pillows, but Blaise had thoughtfully removed them all from the bed.

"For a best friend – "

"I'm pretty fucking brilliant, I know," Blaise finished incorrectly, pulling back Draco's duvet.

"Bloody hell, you git."

The autopilot in Draco tumbled him out of bed and into a convenient robe he had left over a chair. Blaise took his arm and pulled him into the hall with an urgency that would have caught his interest, had he been less hung-over.

Jessica Bentley stood there, shifting from foot to foot and biting her lip.

"He's listening, Jess, go on," Blaise said, propping Draco against the wall.

Jessica took a deep breath. On closer inspection, Draco noticed how pale she was and felt his throbbing eyes focus a bit more. "It was just after breakfast in the common room," she began. "Ananda caught up with me and said she wanted a word. I didn't see anything wrong with that – I mean, she may hate the team, but we're housemates and I'm not on the team anymore. Anyway, she waited until the common room was empty and … and she asked where we all went last night. I told her I had no idea what she was talking about …" Jessica paused. Blaise reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "Anyway," the second year went on. "She said she knew we'd been out and if I didn't tell her, she had ways of – of persuading me to tell her whatever she wanted to know. I kept telling her I didn't know what she meant and she asked if I'd ever met a Death Eater."

Draco was rapidly coming awake. Though this brought an increased awareness of every inch of his aching body, it also made him more alert. "Death Eater?" he repeated. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"That's what I said," Jessica agreed, seeming to take heart. "And she said she_had_, if I knew what she meant."

Draco frowned. "That's the second time …" he muttered, thinking back to what Pansy had told him about Ananda's encounter with Gin – Weasley. Just the unexpected thought of the redhead made his cheeks warm. He shook his head, distracted. "Is that all Ananda said?"

"No." Jessica shivered. "She said she'd be waiting for my answer. About where we all were, I mean."

"She threatened you?" Draco demanded.

Jessica grinned a little. "Right as Pansy turned up." She seemed to relax. "Pansy said that if Ananda didn't back off, Pansy would show her just what the child of two Death Eaters could do to someone's loudmouth face and Ananda shouldn't risk making herself less attractive than she already was. Actually, Ananda didn't seem bothered by the threat. It was when Pansy mentioned being the daughter of Death Eaters; she sort of went rigid and backed off."

Blaise met Draco's eyes. "You do you think, mate?"

"I don't like it a bit," Draco said, more to himself than to them. "All these threats about Death Eaters. Aunt Mila wouldn't allow Ananda within leagues of proper Death Eaters."

"Why the threats, then?" Blaise wondered. "You don't make empty threats about Death Eaters."

Draco's bad mood took a short nosedive. "No, you definitely don't." He blinked, glancing back at Jessica. "Are Pansy and Millicent going to look after you?"

Jessica sniffed, dashing angrily at her eyes. "Yeah. Not like they should have to. It's _my _house, too."

"Damn right it is," Blaise said. "Look, I'll have a word with the rest of the team. We'll all see to it that nothing happens to you, okay?"

Jessica missed a tear that drew a track down her cheek and dropped off her chin. "Thanks, Blaise. Coach."

"Never mind," Draco said gruffly. "You just look after yourself and keep pulling in house points for Astronomy, got it?"

"Yeah." Jessica grinned at him. "Got it."

They watched her amble slowly away down the corridor before Draco turned back to Blaise.

"And I've had an owl?" he prompted, holding out his hand. Rather than handing it over, Blaise offered his right robe pocket. Draco noticed now that his friend's right hand was very red and had streaks of black across it. Draco reached into the pocket and withdrew an elegant roll of parchment. There was little to say – Draco immediately recognized the seal and crest, as well as the scented parchment.

"Suppose it's about time," he muttered, staring at it.

"I'm kind of amazed you've heard nothing before now," Blaise said calmly. "If _my_ family thought I had anything to do with your team …"

"The team's like your mistress," Draco pointed out. "You don't have a proper relationship with it, so instead you're skulking around stealing kisses and writing love sonnets and _arm wrestling_ with it."

"Oh, go on, my_mistress_?" Blaise muttered, surprising Draco tremendously by turning a bit red about the ears. "Anyway, the arm wrestling wasn't_my_ idea. And don't be absurd. Without me, there'd be no team."

"One might wonder what your stake in the whole thing is," Draco said, clenching his fist around the parchment Blaise had handed him.

"One might," Blaise said. "Weasley did. Figured it out, too."

Draco felt his stomach clench and unclench with his fist at the thought of the redhead. Probably still in bed, red hair spread over her pillow, eyelashes fluttering against sleep-warmed, freckled cheeks –

Draco was so startled that he went a bit cross-eyed.

"Draco." Imagines of sleep-warmed redheads vanished from Draco's mind as Blaise's gaze brought his attention back to the scroll in his hand.

From his father.

Draco swallowed.

"Go on, mate," Blaise said bracingly, guiding him back into their mercifully empty dorm. "The worst it could be is a Howler."

"Too flashy," Draco said, picking at the seal. Unfortunately, like most Malfoy correspondence the sealing wax recognized the touch of the correct recipient and dissolved. The parchment flattened in Draco's hands and the dark blue ink blared up at him.

He read the letter once. He only realized he was leaning heavily against the wall when he felt hands on his arms. He was vaguely aware of the stairs out of the dorms, the entrance to the Slytherin common room, and the corridor that led to the Potions classroom.

"Draco, sit down." Draco blinked several times. He could see just fine, he just couldn't make sense of what he was seeing.

"He's had a shock," said a voice to his right.

"It's from his father, sir," said another voice on his left. "Only don't try to touch it – it burns."

"Frankly, I'm amazed it only does that. Dark magic, of course." One of the objects around Draco began moving and soon it was much closer to him. "Draco, can you hear me?" it said.

"Can't I slap him, sir?"

"Miss Parkinson, if you have nothing useful to contribute – "

"I was only trying to help."

"Well, don't, Pans, it doesn't suit you."

"Sod off, Blaise, you're such an insufferable know-it-all – wait, who else do we know who's – "

"End this now, or I'll put you both in detention."

Draco blinked a few more times. Objects were beginning to translate into recognizable and meaningful shapes. Draco saw the familiar gray stone of Professor Snape's office. Snape was leaning over him. On one side was red-eared Blaise and on the other was scowling Pansy.

"How … how did I get here?" Draco ventured experimentally. His voice wasn't trembling; that was something.

"We brought you," Pansy said grouchily. "Carried you, more like."

"You had quite a turn, mate," Blaise added, staring hard at Draco as though trying to decide if he would do it again.

"As we cannot read the letter ourselves, Draco …" Snape raised his eyebrows.

Draco felt his pulse leap and his breath quicken. His palms began to sweat.

"Draco, you _must_ tell me," Snape said, pushing Blaise aside and kneeling before Draco. He caught Draco's shoulders and forced him to meet his eyes. "I can help you, but you _must_ tell me what your father wrote."

Draco swallowed. He swallowed again. He gripped the arms of the chair.

"I'm to go home," he said at last, each word costing a breath, "over Christmas. I'm to face a series of challenges set for me by my aunt Bellatrix. Then, if I succeed …" he broke off, found himself shaking.

"You're to take the Mark," Snape finished. Draco nodded. Snape gripped his shoulders and Draco felt his pulse begin to slow.

"What do we do, sir?" Pansy demanded. "We can't just let them – "

"You're to do nothing, Miss Parkinson, do you hear me?" Snape growled. "You see to it that Draco behaves as normally as possible. Make sure he eats properly, goes to all his classes, and coaches that ghastly team of his."

Draco turned his head just in time to catch Pansy's nod. Peripherally, he realized how unusual it was for Pansy not to argue or even question.

"Come on, Pans," Blaise said from Draco's other side. "Let's get him back to the dorm." He glanced at Snape. "You'll not let – not let anything – " he broke off.

"Certainly not, but we must act quickly," Snape said, back on his feet and heading for the door to his office. He held it open for them. "Get as far away from my office as you can. Leave the parchment with me, Draco. I'll find a way to destroy it."

"No need," Pansy murmured, pointing at the desk where Draco's letter had been. Now there was only a pile of ashes.

"Time-released incendiary curse, undoubtedly," Snape murmured. He waved his wand and the ashes vanished. "Miss Parkinson, Mr. Zabini. Quickly."

"Yes, sir," they both said, pulling Draco up, slinging his arms around their shoulders, and leading him from the room.

"I'll be fine, you know," Draco said when he could be sure he was through shaking and his vision was less long-tunnely.

"I wouldn't be," Blaise retorted, still dragging him along. Draco turned his head enough to look at his friend and saw that Blaise was white. Now that he was paying attention, he could also feel Blaise shaking.

"I said I'd be fine, Zabini," he tried again, squeezing Blaise's shoulder.

"You can't be trusted to take proper care of yourself," Blaise muttered, his jaw ticking.

"That's what we're for," Pansy said bracingly, hefting Draco's arm.

When they reached the entrance to the common room, she released Draco.

"Blaise, we can't carry him through the common room," she began. Blaise didn't move, but stood glowering at the stone. Pansy moved to face him. "Blaise, let him go," she ordered, looking him in the eye. He blinked and after a moment, released Draco's arm.

"Let's go," he snarled, his lip curling as he muttered the password.

"Oh, look, the dream team are back," Gus Godkin's voice greeted them as they crossed the threshold.

Draco found his former lethargy fading rapidly as he and Pansy grabbed Blaise in time to keep him starting an incident.

"I tell you what, Godkin," Blaise spat, his eyes burning. Godkin actually took a step back. "Tell your sodding girl toy that if she so much as looks at Jessica Bentley again, I will personally break her!"

Draco and Pansy stared at each other behind his back as Godkin opened and closed his mouth. Draco didn't see Ananda anywhere, but he saw Jessica. Her eyes were green saucers as she watched.

Blaise turned his glare on the rest of the common room, whose eyes were trained on him in silent shock. Blaise Zabini had an unshakable temper. None of them, from his year down, had ever seen him lose it.

"We're a _house_!" he shouted at them and Draco saw some of them jump. "A _house_. We look out for each other because if we don't, we've got no one! Threatening each other, fighting over arse-backward things like Quidditch – shut the fuck up and look around you! Your housemates need you – be there!"

Draco and Pansy hauled him away as the rest of the common room remained absolutely silent. Neither of them said a word as they opened the door to Draco and Blaise's dorm and sat Blaise down on his bed. As soon as they stood back, he buried his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry," he grunted through his fingers.

"Steady on, mate," Draco said, trying to keep awe out of his voice. "You carry on like that, we won't have any housemates for all the relocating."

"I'm such an idiot," Blaise groaned. He looked up quickly at Draco. "And I'm not the one who – who ..." He swallowed.

"Never mind," Pansy said. She grinned tentatively down at him. "No one will ever cross you again, and that's a fact."

"Never mind that," Blaise muttered, his cheeks a dull red. He looked at Draco. "You all right?"

Draco was grateful the edge of Blaise's bed was beside him. He sat down heavily. The thought of the letter, the implication of it, seemed to suck the energy from him as quickly as he gained it back by forgetting. "No," he answered, running his hands shakily through his hair. "Not remotely."

"Professor Snape won't let anything happen to you, Draco," Pansy said. Draco felt her sit down beside him and her cold hand on his back.

"Nor will Dumbledore," Blaise agreed. His voice was normal again, all traces of rage gone. "He's taken great care of Pans and Milli."

"Tell me everything!" the latter said as she burst into the room and threw herself down on Draco's other side.

"Someone else, please," Draco murmured, suddenly exhausted. The forgotten affects of his hangover gave a surge, sending pain through his chest and stomach and across his forehead.

Pansy was just opening her mouth when Jessica Bentley's head appeared through the dormitory door.

"Draco, Snape wants to see you in the common room right away," she said breathlessly. She smiled a little at the others.

Draco glanced around. Blaise shook his head as if to clear it before clapping Draco on the shoulder.

"Go on, mate," he said. "We'll be here when you get back."

"That a promise?" But Draco pushed himself off the bed and without too much unsteadiness followed the second year back out of the dormitory.

"While I'm young, Mr. Malfoy," Snape greeted him sharply. Draco noticed that the common room was still packed with his housemates, all of whom were watching Snape fixedly. As Snape turned away and stalked back through the common room entrance, he said, "Don't the rest of you have studying to do? No wonder even Hufflepuff is ahead of us in house points, if all you lot ever do is watch people come and go."

"What _is _it with people today?" Godkin muttered before the door shut behind Draco.

"Any particular rush, sir?" Draco demanded as he nearly ran to keep up with his head of house. His legs felt like marmalade and his temples pounded.

"You're a timely correspondent, Draco," Snape said, neither slowing nor looking at Draco. "You'll need to have an answer for your father before he has a chance to think you shared that letter with anyone."

Draco felt the air leave his lounges in a rush. He gasped for air, reached out to steady himself against the stone wall. Snape doubled back, hit him once on the back, and pulled him along by the shoulders.

"You cannot afford to fall apart right now," he said in a low, hurried voice as he half-carried Draco across the entrance hall. "You're not going anywhere, you're well protected here."

"I thought I had time," Draco murmured, more to himself than the professor. "A year, maybe two."

"A delusion under which some of your former classmates operated," Snape snapped, pulling Draco up the first flight of stairs. "Flint, Melancourt, Avery – ever wonder why no one hears from them anymore?"

Draco tried not to think about how little he'd ever thought about any of the upperclassmen. They didn't admire him so he had never given them a second thought. Now that he finally was, he realized that Melancourt and Avery both had siblings still at Hogwarts. What had Snape meant? Were Anna and Cooper safe?

And what of Ananda's threats?

"I need to write my aunt," Draco managed as Snape led him down the second floor corridor.

"Now is really not the time to bring Bellatrix into – "

"Merlin's pants, not her!" Draco yelped, trying to control his breathing. Just the thought of the spidery woman with her tangles of black hair and mad rolling eyes made him want to hide. He tried to remember what he had been thinking about. "I meant my father's sister, Mila."

"Ananda's mother?" Snape sounded predictably surprised. "She's in France, isn't she?"

"Yeah, but I think my owl could find her," he said. "I know Ananda owls her every two weeks."

Snape stopped before a familiar statue, whispered something under his breath, and it slid aside to reveal the winding staircase to Dumbledore's office. "Why do you wish to speak with your aunt?"

"She went to France to stay out of my father's way and try to keep Ananda there, too, right?" Draco said. "Well, a lot of weird stuff has been going on with Ananda recently and I'm … concerned. I want Aunt Mila to know that something's wrong."

"_You_ don't know that something's wrong," Snape began.

"She threatened Jessica Bentley, one of her own housemates," Draco insisted as they neared the top of the stairs. "She basically told Ginny Weasley she was in with Death Eaters. She mentioned my aunt Bellatrix to someone, I can't remember who. Pansy, maybe." He felt himself begin to tremble again. His mouth felt very dry.

Snape was silent and when Draco glanced at him, he saw that Snape's jaw was clamped shut and there was a tick in his temple.

Draco was about to go on, when he heard muffled voices and saw that the door to Dumbledore's office was slightly ajar. As they drew nearer, he could just make out words.

"And what would that do to Mrs. Weasley, sir?" came the unmistakable voice of Harry Potter.

"Molly knows the cost of war," Dumbledore's placid voice drifted through, cutting off the Boy-Who-Whined.

"Yeah, and she's let all her older sons choose whether to fight," Potter insisted. He sounded frustrated – Draco heard a thunk, as of a fist on a hard surface. "Sir, if I got Ron killed, how could I live with myself?"

"I think that's Mr. Weasley's choice to make," Dumbledore said. Draco glanced at Snape again, and saw that his eyes were narrowed. He was listening, too.

"What about Hermione?" Potter carried on. "She's just – "

"A girl?" Dumbledore chuckled. "She's quite as capable as you or Mr. Weasley, Harry. Or have you forgotten that she was with you at the Ministry?"

"We were stupid!" Potter exploded. "_I_ was a complete fool! I led them all there and for what? No, I won't put Hermione in danger like that,_ever_ again!"

"Is that your choice?" Dumbledore asked. "Come in, Severus, Draco."

Draco jumped, but Snape merely pushed the door open and led Draco through.

"If that's all, sir," Potter said. His fists were clenched, his eyes narrow, and his face extraordinarily pale, even for him.

"For now, Harry," Dumbledore said, rubbing his eyes under his half-moon spectacles. "I'm afraid we'll have to take this up again at another time."

"Can't wait," Potter snapped, turning and stalking passed Snape and Draco. "Malfoy," he added as an afterthought as he passed.

"Five points for throwing temper tantrums in front of the headmaster, Potter," Snape said lazily as he passed.

To his credit, Potter didn't respond.

"Five points _to_ Gryffindor for Harry's self control," Dumbledore said, with a reproachful look at Snape, whose sneer spread faster than spilt pumpkin juice. "Really, Severus."

"You coddle the boy, Albus," Snape said, his lip curling.

"And you bait him, as though he weren't the _child_ to your _adult_," Dumbledore said. "The fact that he shows more self control of the two of you is not flattering."

Snape snarled under his breath.

"Were he James Potter, not Harry, I would not be saying this," Dumbledore went on calmly. "Lemon drop, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco compulsively stuffed three into his mouth. Snape folded his arms and, to Draco's eyes, had a little sulk.

"Now then," Dumbledore said. "We haven't much time. Draco, you're sure you want to stay here?"

"Of course I do!" Draco looked at him in amazement.

"Even knowing the consequences your friends Miss Parkinson and Miss Bulstrode will face will be similar to your own?"

"You've met my father," Draco said quietly. "And my aunt Bellatrix." He took a shuddering breath, but forced himself to go on. "If they say I'm to be Marked, I don't have a choice. I can't go back to that."

Dumbledore nodded. "Then you have the promise of all the protection myself and Hogwarts School can possibly offer. For now."

Draco felt a sinking sensation deep in his gut. "For now?"

"For as long as we have the strength to fight for you," Dumbledore clarified. "There may, however, come a time when you will have to fight for yourself. And your friends."

Draco sat down hard in a chair that had appeared behind him. A part of him wondered why he was surprised. It was like expecting never to grow up – it wasn't possible, nor was it right. He breathed hard for a moment, then said, "I understand, sir."

"I find," Dumbledore said, and behind his glasses, his eyes were very kind, "that when I am distressed or fearful, thinking of those dearest to me helps me embrace the courage I cannot find for myself."

Draco wanted to scoff, on principle, at such appalling corniness, but then Pansy and Millicent's faces swam into his head. Blaise joined them as, one by one, did the team. Ginny's face came last and her eyes and lips were spread with laughter, not fear.

"A wise woman once said," Dumbledore told him, pulling at two stuck lemon drops, "that courage is not the absence of fear, but, rather, the knowledge that something else is more important." He smiled. "I find that women are more shrewd on this count than men. Look to your team for strength, Draco. Those girls will see you through." He paused thoughtfully. "Have you considered having a group photo done?"

Draco blinked.

"Albus, may we get on?" Snape demanded. Draco thought he looked a bit nauseated. The idea made him want to laugh and he felt his breathing settle down again.

"Certainly," Dumbledore said, suddenly brisk. "Draco, you must respond immediately to your father. You cannot return home over the holidays because you're held up with special tutoring from Professor Snape, who has chosen to work specially with you. Severus – "

"I'll send a letter off straight away," Snape said.

"Very good," Dumbledore said. "In the meantime, what are your three strongest subjects? The first ones you think of?"

"Potions, Tranfig, Arithmancy," Draco said quickly.

"Hmm … very much like Miss Granger," Dumbledore murmured. He smiled when Draco scowled. "Never mind. I will speak to those professors and have them send special letters home requiring your presence over the holiday." Dumbledore looked very seriously over his glasses at Draco. "If you receive any further messages from your family, destroy them at once and come straight to Severus or myself. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Draco said in an embarrassingly small voice.

Dumbledore leaned back, smiling gently. "Now that that's settled, I expect Mr. Zabini, Miss Parkinson, and Miss Bulstrode are tired of skulking outside the door and would very much enjoy your company elsewhere."

Draco glanced toward the door, through which came Millicent's audible exclamation, "How does he always _know_?"

"You three articles, in here now!" Snape bellowed.

Millicent and Pansy shambled into the room, but Blaise strode in as though he owed the place.

"Not to worry, sir," he said brightly, annoying Draco immensely by patting him on the head. "Draco's safe with us."

"I've no doubt," Dumbledore said, his lip twitching. "We're all through here. Draco has a letter to write and I believe another meal is rapidly approaching. Shall we all adjourn to the Great Hall?"

As they left, Snape kept himself occupied by telling Blaise, Millicent, and Pansy off ("If it's not one thing with you three …" "Sir, it was an accident …" "Got lost, sir…" "Not just lost, but Confundussed as well!" "Yes, and Imperiussed!" "Oh, for – " "Anyway, it could be worse, sir …" "Yeah, you could have caught us fraternizing with Gryffindors … oh, wait …" "Shut up, Milli!").

Draco, however, thought again about those shining images of his team that had risen in his head, center-pieced by Ginny's freckled, laughing face. The picture stayed with him as he followed Snape to his office. It floated as a backdrop over which he crafted his response to his father. It burned in his mind's eye as he watched his eagle owl disappear into the night, his letter tied to her foot.

He wondered, as the image finally began to fade, if he had the strength for what lay ahead.

Or if his girls had the strength he needed.

)**BW(**

When Ginny caught sight of the Slytherin contingent, including Blaise and shortly joined by Draco, she knew instantly that something was different. When she could see passed her own blush, she noticed that although they were talking and messing about as usual, the rest of their house seemed to shy away, except Jessica Bentley, who moved to sit among them. And though Draco seemed to hold court, as usual, he looked as though he were practicing a well-known routine. His expression implied that his thoughts were elsewhere.

Though she knew their kiss had materially changed something between them, Ginny very much doubted his present behavior reflected reciprocal embarrassment on that count.

"They're a gloomy set," Natalie murmured, nodding across the hall.

"You noticed, too?" Hermione was leaning on her hand, watching them with a furrowed brow and the tip of her quill stuck in her mouth.

"Shame we don't have practice today," Parvati put in. She saw the horror on Ginny and Hermione's faces and rolled her eyes. "Oh, go on. How are we to find out now?"

"Normally," said wicked Natalie, spreading marmalade on her toast, "I would ask Hermione to look into it, but …"

"Sod off," Hermione muttered.

The other three snorted with laughter.

"I wonder what's up." Ginny frowned, really allowing herself to look at Draco for the first time since he had sat down beside Pansy at the Slytherin table. He was chuckling at something Blaise was saying to him, but as Ginny watched, she saw the strain around his eyes, the quiver of his mouth. Almost immediately, his expression smooth and settled.

She noticed then the three large goblets and the pot of coffee sitting near his elbow.

"Harry, is something the matter?"

Ginny's attention returned to the Gryffindor table. Hermione and Harry were staring silently at each across the table, but it was Parvati who had spoken.

"Fine, thanks." Harry's voice was low as he rose from the table and left the Great Hall.

"Think he is?" Natalie asked Hermione as the doors closed behind him.

"Just overtired, I expect," Hermione murmured. "Listen, I'm not hungry anymore. I'll see you all later."

"That was subtle," Parvati muttered as Hermione departed.

"Whatever it is, it'll involve Ron," Ginny guessed. She looked up the Gryffindor table and predictably didn't see him. "Those three never do anything alone."

"The big question," Natalie put in, "is whether it's connected to whatever's got to Slytherins all hot and bothered."

Good question, it might be, but they weren't to find out. The Slytherins vanished not long after, and Hermione and her boys weren't seen for the rest of the day.

"In the library, no doubt," Ginny mumbled to herself as she sat with a challenging Potions composition before the common room fire.

At that precise moment, Hermione ducked through the portrait hole, spotted Ginny, and threw herself and her books onto the sofa.

"What's up?" Ginny asked.

"I'm sure you knew where I was and who I was with," Hermione said breathlessly. "And I'm not supposed to speak to anyone about it, so I'm giving you what I can because I need your help."

Ginny blinked.

"Good, I knew you'd understand." Hermione leaned in and whispered, "They found something important. It's so important that I might have to give some things a miss until we understand how important it is." She winced, leaning back slightly. "Know what I mean?"

"Basically take your word for it and make excuses?" Ginny guessed with a sinking feeling.

Hermione bit her lip. "I'm sorry," she said. "You know how I love the team."

Ginny forced herself to remember how much time and effort Hermione had invested, not only in the team but in her belief that Ginny would rejoin it in the end.

"I won't give_everything_ a miss," Hermione added quickly. "It hasn't come to that yet. But if I'm, you know, if I'm late, or – "

"Need an alibi?" Ginny suggested, smiling faintly. "Remember, Hermione, I do know how this stuff works."

"Of course you do," Hermione sighed, returning the smile. "Sorry. That's why I asked you, actually. And you won't," she added anxiously, "tell Parvati or Nat anything?"

"You know I won't let on," Ginny assured her.

Hermione smiled. "Thanks." She sat back, gazing into the fire.

"If you need anything else," Ginny began.

"I know where to find you," Hermione finished.

"Just don't forget," Ginny said quietly, "you three aren't the only ones fighting this war."

Hermione looked sharply at her. Then her face relaxed and she squeezed Ginny's arm. "We know."

Did they, though? Ginny watched Hermione gather her books and ascend the stairs to the girls' dormitory. She felt the sharp pull of irritation in her chest that usually accompanied one of the Dream Team's schemes. They rarely let Ginny in on anything and Ron was, of all Ginny's brothers, the most protective.

_What would Draco do_? The thought was so spontaneous that Ginny jumped, blushed, and silently cursed herself before settling down to the question. What_would_ the coach do in her position?

_Easy – manipulate everyone so he gets what he wants_, she thought, smiling grimly. Well, she didn't need to manipulate anyone, but a little blackmail never went amiss. Either Hermione would give her more than a hint about what was going on, or Ginny wouldn't lie for her at team practice.

_Oh, god_, she thought, collapsing into a heap against the couch cushions. _I don't just _sound_ like him. I'm beginning to think like him as well_.

_I should have just stayed in bed_.

**)BW(**

The next day was the inevitable post-party practice. Most of the girls were in raging high spirits as a result.

Draco might have found their good humor catchy were it not for Jools' cynical eye fixed on him. For the first time, he felt something apart from irritation and disgust. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he also couldn't meet the captain's hostile gaze.

Fortunately, he had a dozen other people to look at and did so energetically.

"Settle, girls, for Merlin's sake!" he bellowed over the racket. He took a head count and frowned. "Patil., where's Granger?" He was also making a point not to look at anyone in the room with red hair.

Patil frowned. "Dunno, actually, coach," she said. "Gin, did you see her after lunch?"

Draco forced himself to look in her general direction. She was as far away as she could be without drawing attention to herself and she didn't look at Draco as she spoke. "She's been held up with some class work. She said she would be down as soon as possible."

Draco actually stared at her for a moment before remembering to look away. Granger, late because of schoolwork? Fat chance – she hadn't once been late, even during their first N.E.W.T.-level exams. Whatever was going on, Ginny was covering for her and doing it badly.

"Fine," he muttered, wrenching himself back to the team, waiting patiently and cheerfully before him. "Girls, in a week's time we leave for the Christmas hols." He swallowed hard, gave himself a mental shake, and went on, "I will be staying here over the holidays. Anyone else who's staying and would like to practice – well, you don't have a choice, I'll be rounding everyone who stays up to practice at least five days a week. You've been warned."

The girls laughed.

"Now I expect you all know," he continued after a moment, "that our next match is with Slytherin."

There was a good deal of hissing, and not just from the other houses. "Too right," he agreed. "Godkin will do anything to beat us. Boot and Potter didn't like to take us seriously, but they wouldn't cheat to win a match. Godkin will. What's more, he'll fight dirty if it means putting as many of you out of commission as possible."

He had their attention now. Adrienne Abbot was leaning against her sister, Hannah, and gripping Natalie MacDonald's hand. Pansy and Millicent sat close to Patrice Patil and Ginny. Ginny sat down beside Pansy, who bumped her shoulder and gave a 'devil-may-care' grin. Ginny returned the look and squeezed Patil Jr.'s hand. Patil Sr. had a hand on her sister's shoulder and put her free arm around Betina Johnson's shoulder.

Draco felt that strange warmth in his chest as he saw them all together (he would sooner have eaten his hand than admit he wished he had the camera Dumbledore had suggested). The warmth chilled as he caught sight of Jools, leaning deliberately away from Adrienne Abbot's hand, extended to include her. Draco tore his eyes away and saw Blaise in the shadows of the locker entrance. His lips were pursed and his eyes were narrowed. He nodded at Jools' back, caught Draco's eye, and shook his head. Never, Draco though, had Blaise expressed a negative view of anyone on the team. He was usually flippant and direct about what he thought about it, but until now, he had always expressed positive, straightforward views.

"So we cheat, too."

Granger appeared behind Blaise, very deliberately stepping around him to enter the lockers. Blaise's grim expression slipped into a knowing smile, but he let her pass without comment.

"We can't cheat, Mione." Susie Bones looked worried. "Sinking to Godkin's level makes us no better than him."

"That's not what I mean," Granger said, coming to a halt behind the Hufflepuffs. "I mean, he's going to be expecting us to make it easy for him, by following all the rules and using all the strategies he's had a chance to study during our first two matches."

"So how do we cheat?" Adrienne Abbot asked.

"We cheat him out of his preconceptions," Granger said. Draco saw Blaise's smile soften in an outrageously gooey way. "We figure out what he's expecting and counter it."

"An example being Weasley's tendency to fumble," Blaise jumped in. He ignored Granger's alarming transition from pink to puce. "We make sure that she catches every shot and, say, Pansy fumbles."

"Like hell!" Pansy cried, her lip curling.

"But I see where you're going," Patil Sr. said, her eyes brightening. "I'm known for Bludger Backups and Natalie normally shadows me. So, we switch."

"Sure," Granger said, as the others began to nod and murmur amongst themselves. "And Parkinson, Ginny, and I normally fly together. So get us off the field and let the others have a go at playing their own strategies. Boot is known for tailing the Chasers. Put her on the Seeker instead." She looked directly at Jools as she said this and continued to stare until Jools met her eye with an unfriendly look.

"Could work," Draco put in, to defuse the awkward pause. "I'll need to rework all of our major strategies, though."

"Let Hermione help you," Betina suggested. "She's sort of the strategy guru."

"Parkinson's better than I am," Granger admitted, though she looked pleased. "She's got an eye for it. So has Susie."

"Right, I want to see Pans, Bones, and you, Granger, while the others warm up. Boot, make sure they all take twenty laps before beginning drills. Get out there, girls!"

They scattered, chattering excitedly as they gathered up their gear and headed for the locker room door. Jools slouched out ahead of the rest and Draco doubted if they'd get any direction from her.

"Well done, Hermione." Blaise sauntered into the room to join them.

"That's Miss Granger to you," Granger snapped, taking a large step back and positioning herself behind Pansy. Her words were belied by another unattractively red blush. Pansy rolled her eyes at Blaise, but remained between him and Granger.

They spent a good twenty minutes reviewing tactics and strategies, discussing conceivable risks and trying to counter them. In order to counter every expectation Godkin might have developed over the course of their first two matches, all of their best moves would have to be modified, scrapped, or reverse-engineered.

"And we'll need constant watch on Betina," Bones said, as a parting observation. "The very first thing they'll do is try to remove the Seeker."

"That puts our Chasers at risk from the Slytherin Beaters _and_ Chasers," Granger murmured, tapping her chin.

"Unless you mix the Seeker in with the Chasers," Blaise pointed out. "Then our Beaters can defend the lot."

"Leaving just the Keeper unguarded," Draco mumbled, trying to picture the pitch in his head. He sighed, frustrated. "All right, we'll discuss this more tomorrow. In the meantime, get out there and start practicing. Except you, Granger. I'd like a word."

Blaise opened his mouth.

"Blaise, since I think one of our captains is poorly, can you manage drills for a bit?" Draco jumped in before his friend could say anything.

Blaise glared at him. "You're such a prat," he muttered, turning and stalking out of the lockers after Bones and Pansy, the latter of whom was smirking.

"What, coach?" Granger asked after the others had left.

"You've never been late, Granger, not once." Draco watched her and saw her purse her lips. "Now, suddenly, you have Weasley making excuses for you. And don't," he added when she opened her mouth, "give me some drivel about extra schoolwork. That's never held you up before." He paused, suddenly realizing something else. "I also heard Potter talking about you to Dumbledore recently. He said something about not endangering you." He crossed his arms and stared down at her. "Don't tell me something isn't up, Granger."

Granger closed her mouth, took a deep breath, and then looked him square in the eye. "Have I ever," she said, "given you reason to doubt my absolute loyalty to this team? Just yes or no."

Draco glowered at her, but at last had to admit, "No."

"And do you think," she went on, obviously choosing her words carefully, "that I would miss any practice or be late without an extremely good reason? Not relatively good, but objectively?"

"That depends, Granger." Draco continued to watch her. "When it comes to, say, school or the team, your intentions and goals seem clear. But with … other things …" He left the sentence hanging.

"You mean Harry?"

He stared at her. "Feeling blunt today, are we?"

"Well, you might as well admit it," she said, tensing visibly. "That's what this conversation is building up to. Would I choose Harry's interests over the team's."

"I wasn't aware Potter had 'interests' that concerned you."

"Don't be thick, Malfoy," Granger snapped. "And I'm sorry, but I can't tell you anything." She gave a grim smile that barely lifted the corners of her mouth. "Don't believe me? Ask our team sponsor." She waited. "Weren't you just up to see him and didn't he and Harry mention me?"

In the good old days of old, Draco would have delighted not only in tormenting the truth out of Granger, but in finding some way of blackmailing her. She was dropping hints left and right.

But, he realized with a sudden jolt, she was also trusting him with a tremendous amount of information. Granger, who knew what his father was and, therefore, what was expected of Draco. Or at least, she must have had a general idea. She probably knew that she was risking that he was already working for his father, for his father's master, and yet she was giving him pieces of a puzzle and allowing him, if he chose, to divine a meaning. She was giving him the opportunity to be of use to people who wanted him on their side and were demanding he join them … now …

The sudden thought of the letter took him by surprise and he sat down hard. Fortunately, a bench broke his fall.

"Malfoy? Coach!" Granger was kneeling in front of him, her hand on his arm.

Draco shook his head, trying to clear the paralyzing fear from his mind as he might dust from an old mantelpiece.

"Malfoy, whatever I said, I'm sorry!" Granger was wringing her hands. "What can I do?"

"Nothing," he said mechanically. The fog was clearing and he was able to focus on the conversation he had dropped. "Nothing, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She looked doubtful, then added, "Are you dehydrated?"

He couldn't help a small smile. She was absolutely absurd sometimes, for all her brains and skill on the pitch. "No, really, I'm fine."

She didn't look convinced but, for some reason, let it go. "Can I go practice now?" she asked, almost timidly.

"Go," he mumbled, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands.

She must have done because a moment later, Blaise appeared in front of him. He said nothing, but he gripped Draco's shoulder until the sound of the girls returning to the lockers called them both to their feet.

"We're done for tonight!" Bones called over the noise of the girls. "Practice, same time tomorrow."

Draco looked around at them all as they bustled about, gathering gear and heading for the castle.

The lockers were almost empty when Draco registered a presence beside him.

"Coach?"

He looked up. Ginny Weasley, supremely red, stood before him. Draco slammed down barriers against the images rising in his mind.

"I – " she paused. "Look, is everything all right? I mean, it's just – "

"I'm fine!" he snapped, far more harshly than he had intended.

She lifted her head and looked him in the eye. "Don't tell me about fine," she said.

They stood there, staring at each other. Draco wanted desperately to look away. Though the horrified fog of the letter was almost gone from his mind, a sharp series of images were taking its place. He saw red hair against brick, freckles under a bright street lamp. He felt warm skin under his hands and smelled flowery hair. Though he wasn't seeing her as she was standing before him, sweaty and exhausted, he felt her proximity with every fiber of himself and couldn't seem to back away.

"I have to get back to the castle," she whispered, looking away but not moving.

Without his consent, his hand drifted out and brushed hers. He felt the electric jolt and it was enough. He stepped smartly away.

"Go on, then," he said, his voice unexpectedly hoarse. "You're a mess."

She hesitated, but apparently couldn't think of a reason to linger.

"Goodnight, coach." And she was gone.

Draco's addled brain spit out one unspoken sentence: _How am I going to survive the Christmas holidays?_ No matter how he looked at it, he was screwed. If Ginny went home, he would be miserable. If she stayed, he would spend most of his time feeling edgy and avoiding her (or avoiding avoiding her, which was worse).

He gave her plenty of time to get ahead of him before he began making his way back to the castle. Whether from his encounter with his redheaded Chaser or from the strain of everything hitting him within forty-eight hours like several tons of brick, he found himself darting glances around at shadows and listening for strange noises as he made his way to the dungeons.

He was passed the Potions classroom and making his way along an adjoining corridor when he heard voices. Not in a frame of mind to want to see anyone, he doubled back and ducked into the Potions classroom, pulling the door closed until it was just cracked open. He was hidden in the shadows of a bookcase when the voices drew near.

" – staying with her over the holidays," came Ananda's distinctive drawl.

"Sure, but what'll your mum say?" The second voice sounded faint, as though the person were speaking quietly or from a long distance. A moment later, Ananda pushed open the door to the classroom. Draco shrank away behind his meager cover, hoping her conversation would distract her from taking too close a look around.

"Forget her," Ananda snapped, hopping up on a desk and swinging her legs. Draco leaned too far out of cover and just caught sight of an object clutched in her hand. He hunched away before he could see what it was.

"Hard to do; she'll ask questions," the second voice said, and there was a definite note of warning.

"I'll just tell her I'm revising at Hogwarts over the holidays, won't I?" Ananda sounded impatient.

"As long as you think she'll buy it," the voice said. "It wouldn't do if someone alerted Dumbledore."

"No one's going to," Ananda said coolly. "Professor Snape will see to that."

Draco frowned. He knew Snape was considered part of the "inner circle" or whatever it was the Dark Lord had as a kind of council. But Dumbledore himself and even a few of the Slytherins knew Snape's real agenda. Surely Ananda didn't think …

"Snape?" the voice repeated. "Come off it – he's a double agent."

"Yeah, but whoever's side he's on, he's not keen to get on the wrong side of Aunt Bella," Ananda retorted. "So, he's helping me as a favor to her."

There was a pause and Draco began to realize just how clever his cousin was. She was spinning a dangerous web, whatever she was playing at.

"Okay, I guess I'll live with it," the voice said. "But be careful. Trust no one, not even Snape." Another pause, then, "Does you cousin suspect?"

Ananda didn't speak for a moment. "I don't know," she said at last. "His sad mates on that damned Quidditch team have been watching me, though. Parkinson, Bulstrode. Weasley. Hell, even Granger has a peek these days."

"It would have been smarter to stay with them, pretend to be friendly," the voice chided.

Ananda gave a chilly smile. "I think I've proven that I'm damned good at this game we're playing. But some things, like getting on with those blood traitors, are beyond even me."

"I do understand," the voice acquiesced. "But don't go looking for a fight, Ananda."

"Don't worry." Ananda glanced at her watch. "I'm supposed to meet Gus in five minutes. I wouldn't want him wondering where I am."

"You're sure he's not … what we're looking for?" the voice asked.

"He's a complete idiot," Ananda scoffed. "All he cares about is beating Draco's team at Quidditch and getting off with me. He's a tool."

"Just keep a firm hold on him," the voice warned. "Tools are useful until you overturn them on your toe."

"I'll be careful."

"Watch your back." There was a soft click and Ananda tucked the object in her hand back into her pocket. After a long moment, she hopped off the desk and left the classroom.

Draco gave her five minutes to get to wherever she was going before resuming his trek to the common room, his mind full and his stomach in knots.

**)BW(**

_TBC_


	14. The Holidays

A/N: Yet another incredibly big apology for the wait. Believe me, as an avid fic reader myself, I KNOW the pain of waiting for the next part of a good story. Well, I don't know if this qualifies but I know a fair few of you are chomping at the bit for this next chapter, which is the highest form of flattery. So thanks, even to those of your who menaced me. No, seriously, thanks! The encouragement, the constant stream of reviews – even if I had no desire ever to write again, I couldn't possibly stop now!

I am preparing to move to another country – yeah, fear. So either my updates will increase dramatically this summer or I'll have just as hard a time consistently posting as ever. Either way, I have not and will not abandon this fic. I will continue to update absolutely whenever I can. I won't sacrifice quality for frequency. As you've all noticed, I do miss things when I do my edits. I don't want those errors to increase because we're all impatient for more (yeah, me too!). So no abandonment – that's a promise!!

Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.R.'s. Sincerest thanks to the Goddess of pro-fic . . .

**)BW(**

Ginny couldn't quite believe it when she awoke at the end of the week and realized it was the Christmas holidays. She had been so caught up in Quidditch, school, and avoiding being alone with Draco that the break had crept up.

She sat up and stretched. The sixth year girls' dorm sounded empty. She had already given silent thanks that all her dorm mates had gone home for the holidays this year. She glanced at the clock. It was gone eleven.

She lay back against her pillows and stared up at bed's canopy. She blinked away the pale face that constantly assaulted her these days. It fought through her barriers and rose in her mind, in the form of a bright figure dancing close to her under fluorescent lights. She shook her head, but couldn't stop the feeling of cool hands wrapped around hers, white teeth flashing against the dark backdrop.

"Stop it," she hissed, shutting her eyes and pressing her fists into them. Light exploded behind her eyelids, shattering the ghost for a fraction of a second. When it floated back, coalescing into a shape that seemed to smirk at her attempts to shut it out, she almost threw herself from the bed. She pulled on the first pieces of clothing she could find, which turned out to be a pair of too-tight jeans and a Hagrid-sized Holyhead Harpies shirt she had won from the Wizarding Wireless Network.

She was out of Gryffindor tower and jogging down a hall, as though she could outrun her brain, when she almost collided with two people standing at the end of the corridor near the staircases.

"Sorry – " she began, before realizing who they were.

"Jesus, Weasley!" Pansy swore, her hand pressed over her heart. She took several deep breaths and glared.

"I wasn't walking _that_ quietly," Ginny retorted, folding her arms. "Or walking at all, actually."

"Where are you going in such a hurry, Gin?" Harry asked, tucking his hands deep into his pockets. He was a bit red about the ears and, Ginny noticed, a bit tense about the shoulders.

"Just … running," she said more sharply than she meant to.

"It skinny jeans?" Pansy raised her eyebrows.

"It's a thing." Ginny glared at her.

"Speaking of things," Pansy said, her own expression dark. "Weasley, I must speak with you about that thing with the team."

"That thing," Ginny repeated.

"You know," Pansy said, with a look that told Ginny that she was in trouble if she didn't play along, "that thing the coach wanted us to discuss."

"Oh, right," Ginny said, even as the thought of Draco nearly smothered her, "that thing. Does discussing it involve going elsewhere?"

"How perceptive you are," Pansy snapped, grabbing her arm and dragging her off.

"Pans," Harry began.

"Save it, Potter," she snarled without looking back. "Your little friends are waiting in the library."

"Bye, Harry," Ginny said, then quailed under Pansy's furious look.

"What did I do?" Ginny muttered, rubbing her arm when Pansy let her go.

"You told me to tell Potter," Pansy accused.

"Tell him what?" Ginny wracked her brain.

"Don't be thick," Pansy scoffed. "I saved you from Godkin and Ananda, and you said I should tell Potter about the Ananda thing."

"And … you just did?" Ginny hazarded as they descended the stairs.

"I did." Pansy shook her head.

"What happened?" Ginny wanted to know.

Pansy gritted her teeth. She was an alarming shade of red, Ginny noticed. "He said thanks."

"That's all?"

"So naturally," Pansy continued by way of an acknowledgment, "I asked what he thought I should do." She barked a laugh. "Should've saved my breath."

"What did he say?"

"He grabbed me and hugged me – hugged me! – and told me to … oh, how did he put it?" She sneered. "'Please be safe.'" She made exaggerated quotations in the air with her fingers.

Ginny nodded slowly. "Typical."

"I know, right?" Pansy exploded. To her credit, Ginny didn't quite jump.

"That's Harry, though," Ginny said.

"But it's ridiculous!" Pansy's arms flew about as she went on, her voice rising. "How much danger am I in just being a Parkinson? I join a Quidditch team full of Muggleborns and Muggle sympathizers and my dangerous family says, 'Piss off' and I can't ever go home." She took a shaking breath and behind her eyes, some shadow flickered.

"You think he's disregarding the sacrifices you've already made," Ginny realized. "That he doesn't recognize how courageous you are."

"I don't give a damn about courage!" Pansy snapped. "I'm not some Gryffindor."

Ginny ignored this. She knew Harry's pattern. How many times had he ignored Ginny's connection with Tom Riddle and her entire family's involvement in the war, all for the sake of perceiving that she was safe?

"Can I put my foot in it and share a little insight?" she asked, leaning back against the banister.

"Anything – no courage crap, though." Pansy gave her arms a final toss and deflated. "Just give me a clue – I can't even begin to imagine what's going on in his sad little brain."

Ginny shook her head. "He's been like this since I've known him. Okay, take me, for example. I've known him six years now. I've actually fought by his side, probably saved his life. And he's still not going to tell me what he and Ron and Hermione are researching in the library or ask for my help, even though I had You-Know-Who in my head for a year – please, don't even ask," she added when Pansy's eyes widened and she opened her mouth. "I'm tough and Harry knows that. But the idea of letting anyone else suffer like he has if he has the power to prevent it is completely beyond him. If he can stop you getting involved in the war, he will. That's what he's like."

"Why?" Pansy demanded, chewing a fingernail. "I'm already involved in the war. So are you, your family – we're all in it, the git doesn't have to go at it alone!"

It was fear, Ginny realized. That was the shadow in Pansy's eyes. Fear for Harry.

"As Ron and Hermione have been showing him for years," Ginny agreed. "You'd think he'd get it now." She took a deep breath. "Why does he do it?" she repeated Pansy's question. It was so obvious, at least to Ginny. "Because he loves us. Harry loves like no one I know. It's like his curiosity. It's so powerful he couldn't stop it or change it if he wanted."

There was a long pause and Ginny held her breath. She wouldn't have blamed Pansy for not accepting the explanation; to allow for something so contrarily selfish and selfless might be too much.

"Thanks, Weasley," Pansy muttered at last. "I – " she stopped.

"It never occurred to you that he might care about you that much?" Ginny guessed.

The color in Pansy's cheeks dulled from deep red to pale pink. "Thanks, Weas – Ginny," she muttered again.

_Thanks for taking my mind off Dr – _Malfoy_ for ten minutes_, Ginny thought, though she only said as encouragingly as she could, "You'll get the hang of it. He's not all that hard to figure out once you've had a few years." She frowned and added quickly, "And I mean that like he's my brother."

Pansy snorted, but her lip curled upward. "I'm not a blind fool, Weasley. I'd be worried if Potter were blond and shouty and coach of an all-girls team – "

She leapt away as Ginny dove at her.

"I hate you, Parkinson!" she growled, her cheeks burning.

"The same to you, Weasley," Pansy sing-songed as she skipped down the steps ahead of Ginny. "Try not to daydream during practice today."

"_Hate_ you!" Ginny stressed loudly.

"Oh, come on. What's not to love about Pansy?" Blaise Zabini appeared in the entrance hall beside Hermione, his arms full of what could only have been her books. Ginny suspected he'd taken them without asking, as Hermione appeared to be trying to pull them away.

"Do you want a detailed list?" Ginny muttered without much conviction.

"Thank you, I take that as a compliment," Pansy said. She smoothed her hair. "And I'm starving. Blaise, take me in to lunch."

"But I'm just," Blaise began.

"Oh, no really, _Blaise_," Hermione stressed, taking the opportunity to snatch her stack of books back. "Let someone else have the benefit of your chauvinistic tendencies."

Pansy smirked, Blaise scowled, and Ginny took half Hermione's books out of her arms, glancing at the titles as she did. Standard Defense Against the Dark Arts material, nothing she didn't recognize. She felt a twinge of disappointment.

"Thanks, Gin," Hermione huffed as Pansy dragged Blaise through the doors to the Great Hall.

"Don't mention it," Ginny assured. "It's a welcome distraction."

**)BW(**

Draco would have liked a welcome distraction. He couldn't get swirling red hair, soft brown eyes, or the whole lovely image spread enticingly against a brick wall out of his head.

He had some success when he turned his mind to his cousin. A week after overhearing her strange conversation in the Potions classroom, he was still puzzling over the possible meanings of it. He couldn't figure any powerful motives, any kind of beginning, any possible way she could have kept such a monumental change from Aunt Mila. There were certainly less powerful motives (her expulsion from Quidditch), vague ideas about her change of heart (she had met Aunt Bella somehow, after all), possibilities about her ability to keep the change in her from her mum (her distance and the little time she had spent at home over the last five years). Unfortunately, nothing really jumped out at him.

He also thought about his uncle Malfoy, who had been so bent to Aunt Mila's will that he'd changed his name to Malfoy, rather than keep his own Pureblood name. He remembered hearing that Uncle Archie (Archibald, though he'd never been called that) had died recently. He hadn't heard a breath of it from Ananda, though. He had thought about asking her about it, but she always seemed so cheerful and driven that he hadn't bothered. Now, of course, it was out of the question. Still, Uncle Archie had been as much against the Dark Lord and Lucius Malfoy's manic schemes as Aunt Mila ever had been – he came by that aversion naturally. It was the one thing of his own he had brought to their union, Draco remembered his mother saying once.

Draco tried to focus on these thoughts, but then Ginny, with twinkling eyes, glowing hair, and disheveled clothing, would slink into his mind again. He wasn't sure how much more he could take before he did something desperate (he didn't like to think what it would be, but it would involve the Quidditch shed and about three hours).

Even Quidditch became unwelcome. It was more and more difficult for the girls to ignore Jools' volatile behavior. When she snarled at Adrienne Abbot for leaving her kit on the bench instead of tucking it away in her locker, Draco had thought the tension in the room would shatter into a shouting match. Hannah had drawn close to her sister with a look of loathing never before been seen on a Hufflepuff. Granger had squeezed Adrienne's arm, loudly assuring her that everyone made mistakes (then adding, "Like missing a simple question about numeric alphabetizing and getting Acceptable on an Arithmancy midterm"). Ginny had been on her feet behind Jools' back, her face red and hands shaking. Fortunately, Pansy had been nearby and clamped a hand over her mouth.

Draco gave a frustrated grunt, throwing down his quill as the redhead once again slid into his mind. He had more than enough to worry about without Ginny being in his head all the time. He tried have hard to return his thoughts to the approaching holiday.

The silver linings were that Ananda and Jools were both off home for Christmas. The downsides were that without Jools, Susie Bones would be the only captain and, though plenty competent, she didn't have Jools' noisy drive.

And Ananda wasn't going home. She was going to stay with Aunt Bella and Draco's parents.

What Aunt Mila had to say about that, Draco had no idea. He'd only found out by listening in to another of Ananda's strange conversations in the Potions' dungeon. He doubted if Ananda had said anything to her mum – most likely, she had lied and said she was staying at Hogwarts. She probably figured she was safe from discovery by her mum because even if Draco somehow found out, he was at her mercy if she decided to mention to either Aunt Bella or Draco's parents that he was still coaching the Quidditch team.

Also, Aunt Mila despised Draco and probably wouldn't take any inquiry from him kindly.

_No harm in trying, though_, Draco had decided as he penned a quick note to his aunt. She wouldn't thank him later if she was made aware of her daughter's behavior by the _Daily Prophet_.

By the end of the final week before the Christmas holidays, Draco was shaking as he turned in projects, swallowing gallons of coffee as he missed meals, and coming, for the first time, to dread his team's practices.

When Ginny muttered, "Thank Merlin it's the holidays" after a particularly grueling and unpleasant practice on Friday, Draco gave a silence cheer and swore to himself that he was going to sleep for a week.

He couldn't sleep for a week until he'd learned all he could about Ananda, however, so he took to stalking her. She probably suspected he was watching her all the time and he had to give her credit for sneakiness. She was almost impossible to find outside Slytherin and when he did see her, it seemed the result of accident, rather than a testament to his stalking skills.

"Give it up, mate," Blaise advised after Draco had a tantrum at him about it in their dorm. "Also, get a sodding grip, my god."

Draco said something rude about Blaise's mother and made one last venture into the common room where he had the misfortune of overhearing Ananda's goodbyes to Gus Godkin. He thought he might be sick from all the not-talking this goodbye entailed and consequently, only heard Ananda lying to Godkin about where she would be for the holidays. Though intrigued that Godkin didn't seem to be in on Ananda's plans, Draco didn't learn anything else of importance and stormed back up to the dorm.

"Told you to get a grip," Blaise said when Draco kicked a trunk. "And don't insult my mother."

Draco thought about kicking Blaise as well. His throbbing toes prevented him.

When at last Saturday morning crept over the canopy of his four-poster, Draco wondered if he should believe his good fortune.

He wondered if he was hallucinating when Millicent told him Jools was officially off and the rest of the team were accounted for.

"Well, some of us can't go home anyway," Pansy mumbled into her porridge, nearly quelling Draco's disbelieving good mood. It was rekindled a moment later when Ginny stood up from Gryffindor, her short hair glittering in the rare winter sunlight from the transparent ceiling, and wandered out of the Great Hall with a smile on her face.

"Now you can have little fantasies about her all day long and no one will glare at you," Blaise muttered at him, tearing into his toast.

"I intend to," Draco told him, noticing that Granger was sitting quite close to Potter and whispering in his ear. He smirked. "You enjoy doing the same."

Blaise growled something unintelligible and Millicent snorted with laughter.

There was no Quidditch that day and as a result, Draco spent most of it eating and wandering the castle. He tried very hard not to think as he wandered, but simply to take in the peace of an almost-deserted labyrinth of passages.

It was a nasty shock, therefore, to come round a corner and find that Ginny Weasley had some bloke backed up against a wall. For a moment, Draco's mind painted pictures of lips locked, hands on hips.

When his brain caught up with his eyes, he realized that what he was seeing was Ginny Weasley poking her finger into Harry Potter's chest.

" – don't see why it's any different with Parkinson and I," she was saying (seething, more like, Draco thought).

"And even if I tried to explain it to you, you wouldn't like it or want to understand," Potter assured her. "Also, ow!"

"Oh, that's so convenient," Ginny retorted, poking harder. "Did it ever occur to you that letting Parkinson help you might actually keep her safe? If you protect someone all the time, how the hell are they supposed to learn to do it themselves? Would I have messed about with Tom Riddle's diary if I'd been allowed to play rough with my brothers?"

"I think this is different," Potter began.

"Be a right side easier for you if it were," Ginny cut him off. "Think about it, Harry. You're setting yourself up for a world of hurt if you think protecting everyone you love is really making them safe."

She turned away then, saw Draco, and went an appealing shade of pink.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked.

"No," Ginny lied (quite badly).

"I've got homework," Potter muttered, pushing away from the wall, stuffing his hands into his pockets, and slouching off.

"Think about it, Harry!" Ginny called after him.

He threw her a sour look over his shoulder before disappearing into another corridor.

"What was that about?"

Ginny shrugged. Her ire seemed to have expelled itself in her blush. "Harry's just being – " she broke off.

"A git?" Draco offered.

Ginny actually smiled. "Not at all, that's what's so annoying. I could resent him properly if he were."

"What is he being?"

"Loving."

Draco felt heat coil in his chest. He didn't like to think what it meant. "Loving."

She must have seen something in his face. "Not the way you're obviously thinking." She leaned back against the wall. Her hair did fan a bit and Draco had to fight several startling images. To quell them, he leaned back beside her, keeping a safe distance between their arms.

"In what way, then?"

Ginny glanced at him; hesitated. "I wouldn't have bothered to ask you this even a month ago. Do you … have you ever loved someone so much you would die for them? Like, you've imagined them about to die and yourself saving them and actually dying for them."

Draco shivered.

When he didn't answer, Ginny went on. "Harry feels that way about every member of my family. About Hermione. About several of his friends in Gryffindor. About Professor Dumbledore and his godfather and Professor Lupin and Lupin's wife." She smiled. "I expect he's starting to feel that way about Pansy." She shook her head. "He loves so deeply and so selfishly."

Draco blinked. "Selfishly."

Ginny nodded. "In a way, it's a good thing. It means he's completely dedicated to the lives of his friends and family, more deeply than anyone I know. But it also means that the idea of losing those he's close to is with him so deeply that he would rather lock us up in a windowless tower than let us choose to take the risks he constantly takes for us."

Draco let that sink in. He really hated understanding Potter. Among other things, it made him think a lot about that moment on the Hogwarts Express when Potter had said, "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks."

Was Draco really so unworthy of what Potter was?

"And so," Ginny went on, "I have to fight him on everything. Now I'm fighting him on whatever he's planning with Ron and Hermione. I'm sure the only reason they know is that Dumbledore told Harry he needed them. The rest of us, though?" She snorted. "It's so easy to leave us all holed up here in the castle. We're all 'safe' here."

"We're not," Draco murmured, thinking about Ananda.

Ginny nodded vigorously. "Exactly!" She drummed her knuckles against the stone behind them. "He'll think what he wants. And he won't tell Parkinson or I anything. We've both tried."

"What's there to tell?" Draco wanted to know.

"Oh, once a year, he, Hermione, and Ron get like this," Ginny said. She turned abruptly and stalked up the corridor. She didn't check to see if Draco was behind her (which he was), but went on talking. "They whisper and have their heads together. One year, Nev and Luna and I figured out what they were up to in time to be there to help." She laughed mirthlessly. "Harry'll never forgive himself for letting us come. Like he could have stopped us!"

Draco remembered the wild rumors that had circulated at the end of his fifth year. The year his father had been arrested.

"What happened?" he asked, his eyes fixed ahead of them.

"Are you sure you want to know?" she asked.

Draco scowled. "If you're referring to my father …"

"And your aunt, actually. Well?"

"I know what they are, Weasley," he snapped.

She was silent.

"So what happened?"

She took a breath. It trembled just noticeably as she let it out. "We thought they had Sirius – you know, Harry's godfather. Harry was beside himself. Once he and Hermione got free from Umbridge and the Inquis Squad, he was going to go to the Ministry of Magic alone." She paused, gave him a crooked smile. "To this day, I wish I'd never Bat Bogied you."

Draco blinked. "Why?"

"If we hadn't escaped from you all, Hermione might have stopped Harry going. She might have talked him into rescuing us first. She can be very persuasive and she knew it was wrong to go." She stopped at the base of the stairs to the entrance hall. "We – Harry, Hermione, and Ron, Luna, Nev, and I – flew to the Ministry. It was a trap, of course. I think we all knew it the moment we got to the place Sirius was supposed to be. I think even Harry realized it." Her voice trembled, but she forced her words through. "If we hadn't gone, Sirius might still be alive. As it was, we were all nearly killed and Sirius …" She swallowed. "Well, your dad and aunt made a proper job of him."

"He was my cousin – Black was, I mean," Draco offered. He wanted to see her expression soften. He didn't even mind the remarks about his family.

She smiled again, her lips quivering. "I know. I reckon you would've liked each other."

Draco's eyebrows shot up. Everything he'd ever heard about the wayward Black made him think the reverse.

"Yeah, he was a bit of a rogue," Ginny said. "I think I had the world's biggest crush on him the summer before fourth year when my family lived in his house."

Draco felt his lips curl down. Ginny stared at him. "What?"

"He's about a hundred years old," he said. Lame, and he knew it.

"So? It was a crush – it wasn't like I expected anything from it. Anyway, I was still kind of into Harry at the time."

"Keen, aren't you?" Draco knew he was still scowling and ascended the stairs completely disgusted with himself.

"I was fourteen," Ginny defended, following him. "Everyone I know had at least two crushes at that age. But then, you are the great Draco Malfoy, beyond the lure of hormone or infatuation."

Draco had once fancied himself a master of self-control. "Don't be so sure about that," he snapped, turning so quickly to face her that she walked into his chest.

She froze. She was so close he was having a hard time focusing on her face. "Wh-what?" she whispered.

_Shit_, Draco thought.

"Nothing," he muttered, struggling to step away. They were in the entrance hall, for Merlin's sake! The busiest area of the castle and Ginny was practically glued to his front. He needed to move. He tried to convince his legs, but they weren't in the mood.

"I – we – " Ginny offered articulately. She cleared her throat.

"Well put," Draco encouraged. He could just see her eyes through curtains of fringe and long eyelashes. They were almost black, with only thin rings of hazel iris.

"All right, that'll do."

Draco was suddenly dragged backwards by the scruff of his neck. He spluttered and flailed his arms. Moments later, Hermione Granger appeared beside Ginny. The redhead was wide-eyed and obviously horrified.

"Come on, Gin, it's time for homework," Granger said, turning the stricken sixth year around and frog marching her up the stairs.

"Oh, my god, Hermione, what is wrong with me?" Ginny could be heard moaning as Granger said soothing things to her and rubbed her back.

"What's wrong with you, that's the real question," Draco's assailant said as he turned them both and pushed Draco through the front doors of the castle. "I can't be with you every second, mate. You need to control yourself."

"Shut up, Blaise," Draco muttered, shrugging free. "She walked into me, that's all."

"Right – with her chest," Blaise agreed.

Draco snarled and stalked off toward the lake, his best friend following without invitation. He ignored the fact that he wasn't dressed for snow or wind. His frustration and chagrin warmed him considerably.

**)BW(**

Their first practice of the Christmas holidays was like a breath of fresh air. Ginny couldn't believe how relaxed she felt as she entered the lockers. Everyone smiled at her as she exchanged greetings and crossed to her locker. Everyone was laughing and talking more vigorously than ever.

"Makes for a lovely change," Hermione murmured as she unbuttoned her shirt.

"Let's enjoy it," Ginny agreed, pulling on her jogging bums and guards. It would be a right side less tense for her if Draco would mysteriously not show up and Susie ran practice. Not as invigorating; not as stimulating. But still, she wouldn't be turning red all the time or getting butterfly belly. Just thinking about him sent a tingle down her neck.

"Let's go, girls!" Susie's quiet voice somehow carried across the lockers. "I want us warming up by the time the coach gets here."

Ginny wanted that, too – she might be able to go an entire practice without being closer than twenty meters. She shoved on her gloves, snatched up her broom, and dove through the locker doors. Hermione called after her in amazement, but Ginny was already mounting her broom.

"Steady on, Gin!" Adrienne called to her as she rose to join her by a goal post. "What's the hurry?"

"I'm just – excited for a good practice," Ginny said lamely.

"Right," Adrienne said, but didn't press further as Patrice, Pansy, and Betina flew up to join them.

"I was just saying to Granger – " Pansy began, but as she drew level with the others and gave the pitch a cursory sweep, she broke off.

"What the hell is she doing?"

Ginny followed her gaze.

Jessica Bentley was standing near the locker doors in conversation with Susie.

"What's she here for?" Patrice muttered.

"You don't think she's come to … to, like, sabotage us or something?" Adrienne began slowly.

"No," Pansy said sharply. "No, not Jess."

"No, of course not," Adrienne said quickly, shaking her head. "Just, with Ananda and all …"

Pansy gave her a look and Adrienne's mouth snapped shut.

Jessica's conversation ended and she vanished back into the lockers. Ginny saw Susie smiling and couldn't help smiling herself. Moments later, Jessica appeared in the Slytherin stands and took a seat in Snape's usual place. Betina squealed and shot off toward the stands to greet her co-Seeker. Pansy was close behind her.

Ginny, feeling that she should appear to be doing something useful so as not to call attention to herself, took off for laps. She relaxed into the curve of the flight, taking the edges of the pitch as tightly as she could and pushing herself to take each lap a bit faster than the last. She felt the wind rip at her hair and skin, felt her hands stiffen around the handle, and felt her quads and calves complain as they dug into the stirrups to hold her body steady over the broom.

"Weasley!"

The voice shook her so badly she nearly crashed into the Hufflepuff stands. She swerved in time and banked reluctantly toward the ground.

Draco stood waiting with his hands on his hips.

"What are you doing, trying to kill yourself?" he demanded the moment her feet hit the pitch. She staggered, surprised as how like jelly her legs felt.

"What?" she said blankly, looking anywhere but at his face.

"I've never actually given you two hundred laps, Weasley," Draco said, scowling at her. "There's a good reason. So when I see you capping a hundred fifty, what am I supposed to think except that you've got a death wish?"

"I – a hundred and fifty?" Ginny repeated.

"Sit down and stretch while the others start practice," Draco ordered, pointing toward the benches. "I don't want you injured because you've overdone your warm up."

"Yes, _coach_," she muttered resentfully, staggering passed him with as much dignity as she could manage.

"Don't take the mickey, Weasley," he called after her.

"Or what, you'll give me laps?" she snapped.

"Don't push me!" he retorted.

"Why, don't you like it?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them and she was unspeakably grateful the rest of the team was in the air. Her face went puce anyway and when she sat down to stretch, she kept her back to Draco.

She felt even worse when he didn't respond. She gave it a count of thirty before she peeked over her shoulder. He was staring up at the girls in the air, but she swore his cheeks were pink. She groaned, straddled her legs and buried her nose in the frosty grass of the pitch. She made sure each part of her legs had been stretched, including the sensitive Achilles heel before mounting her broom and joining the Chasers for goal practice.

She managed to avoid Draco the rest of practice, a task made easier by the fact that he was obviously avoiding her, too. She knew she should have felt relieved and so, disappointed of that feeling, she distracted herself with Jessica's arrival in the lockers after practice, catching up and getting more of a skinny on Ananda's odd behavior.

"It doesn't make any sense," Hermione muttered as they made their way back to Gryffindor.

"What doesn't?" Ginny asked, tugging her short hair into half a plait.

"Oh, Ananda's strange behavior." Hermione chewed a nail for a moment. "I mean, she's threatened you and Jessica, both her former teammates and one her housemate! It's not on, but it also doesn't add up. If she were being coerced or blackmailed or something, she'd be afraid. There aren't any signs of that."

"Granger, why don't you stick with your dream team problem solving and leave the lesser evils to the rest of us?" Pansy pushed passed them, her glare at Hermione unmistakable.

"Lay off, Parkinson," Hermione snapped – Ginny wondered if she wasn't a little hurt as well. She and Pansy hadn't ever been friends, but of late they pretty much got on. Pansy ignored her now, stalking on ahead with Bulstrode and Jessica in tow.

"Parkinson!" Ginny called, running to catch up.

"Go away, Weasley." Pansy shoved her hands into her pockets.

"Look, don't take your frustration with Harry out on Hermione," Ginny retorted. She lowered her voice so Jessica and Bulstrode couldn't hear. "It's bad enough with Jools. If anything, Hermione might be the one to convince Harry to let you in on whatever their secret is."

Pansy snorted, but slowed down a bit. "Oh, go on, then. Tell her I'm sorry – that time of the month or something."

Ginny grinned. "Will do. I'll be sure to go light on detail."

Pansy nudged her. "Do that." She glanced back at Hermione. The Gryffindor was shouting at Blaise, who had mysteriously appeared and was attempting to walk along with her. Pansy snorted. "Even if I was planning on having a strop with her, I don't think I could do it. I enjoy being able to watch Blaise torment her and that's best observed at short-range."

"You are such a Slytherin," Ginny muttered, then blushed as Draco appeared suddenly on the steps ahead of them and took them two at a time.

"And you," Pansy said with a not gentle pat on her cheek, "are such a Gryffindor. Good afternoon, Weasley." She trotted ahead to catch up with Draco and Ginny let her go, silently cursing her flaming cheeks and Pansy in one fell swoop.

**)BW(**

Draco would have expected the holidays to slow to a crawl, what with his mind flip-flopping between Ginny, Quidditch, Ginny, Ananda, and Ginny all the time. To his amazement, he was kept occupied through Christmas. Granger and Bones took anti-Slytherin strategy quite seriously, so they seemed to pop out of the woodwork at all hours of the day and night, demanding his time. He wouldn't have told a soul, but he genuinely enjoyed their devotion to the game and the challenge of planning strategies that went counter to everything he was used to.

He was a little irritated when Granger found her way into his dorm. He suspected Blaise was to blame and the look on the git's face when Granger tucked herself up on the edge of Blaise's bed and hugged one of his pillows to her chest made Draco want to bludgeon himself.

He didn't know how she was finding time to work on Quidditch when he always seemed to be running into her in the library with Potter and Ron Weasley. He also found them dueling in empty classrooms quite frequently. He didn't like to interrupt. Granger's ability to take Potter and Weasley in a duel meant she could cream Draco if she were properly irritated.

He was shocked when it was suddenly Christmas Day.

He was also shocked to receive an invitation on top of the very small pile of parcels at the end of his bed.

_Dear Coach_, it read_, you are cordially invited to a Christmas dinner with Your Girls promptly at 1pm. Meet Miss Hermione Granger, Star Chaser, at the foot of the staircases in the entrance hall to be escorted to the event. Should you choose not to come, we will hogtie you and drag you by your ankles. You have been warned. Happy Christmas! Your Girls._

They had each signed their name.

"Cheeky, aren't they?" Blaise was sitting up, rubbing his eyes. His pile of gifts almost obscured his bed.

"This was your idea, wasn't it?" Draco demanded.

"No, Bones and the Abbots came to me," Blaise said, yawning. "Bones said Hermione knew the perfect spot and would I like to come? The condition was that I make you come, too." He grinned. "Hermione said to tell you Weasley has new robes. Low cut. Green. Lacy."

"Jesus! Shut up, you git!" Draco threw a pillow at him, toppling the mountain of gifts, and held his eyes wide open against visions of Ginny without any robes at all.

"That's a very festive pink you're turning, coach," Jessica Bentley said politely from the doorway, where she stood with Pansy and Millicent.

"Oh, do please come in, all of you," Draco intoned darkly. "Make yourselves quite at home. Not to worry – I often allow people in first thing so I can be gawked at like an exhibit."

"Thanks, we'd love to." Pansy threw herself onto his bed. She was holding four packages and Draco guessed every giver was in the room now. Millicent followed suit with a similar lack of gifts, but Jessica levitated her enormous stack in behind her. Mercifully, she found an armchair to sit in instead of crushing Draco and his bed.

"We made out like bandits this year," Millicent said dryly. "Goodness, who has sent me these lovely gifts? I just can't imagine."

"I deny everything," Blaise assured her. "I signed mine Love Santa."

"What did you sign _Hermione's_?" Pansy asked, clutching a hand to her heart.

"'Snogs and snuggles, Your Perfect-Toothed Love Biscuit,'" Blaise said calmly, pulling a gift from the pile on his bed and tearing into it. "And what did you sign You-Know-Who's, Pans?"

"You sent a gift to the Dark Lord?" Jessica squealed, dropping a half-opened parcel.

"He doesn't mean that You-Know-Who," Draco assured her, picking up Millicent's gift to him and eyeing it.

"I'll you-know-what your face if you say another word, Zabini," Pansy snarled.

"Watch who you're taunting then, smarty knickers," he returned. He grinned at Draco, whose gift he'd been unwrapping. "My very own cheerleading jumper? Malfoy, you knit? Or do I mean, you git?"

"Let's see, then," Millicent ordered.

Blaise held up the hooded jumper. It was silver and black, with blue and gold writing that read '#1 Biggest Fan' on the front and 'Team Draco Cheerleader' on the back. On the hood was a track of paw prints that ended in a black outline of a nundu.

"How quaint," Pansy sniggered. "Nice work of the team colors and mascot, Draco."

"I agree." Millicent clapped in delight as she pulled a container of diamond-hard broom polish from a small parcel. "Wow, thanks, Pans!"

"So this Christmas dinner thing," Draco said, toying with the twine on a large parcel from Blaise. "What's it all about?"

"Oh, you know." Pansy tore into a gift without looking at Draco. "Excuse to celebrate."

"But there's always a feast in the Great Hall," Draco pointed out.

"I reckon they want to spend time as a team before everyone gets back." Blaise pulled the jumper over his head. He looked down at himself in dismay. "God, I don't know what to say."

"Don't speak," Millicent choked out, guffawing.

"There are no words," Jessica mumbled into her own gifts.

_Before everyone gets back_, Draco thought. _Before Jools gets back_.

"All right, I'm not arguing with parties," he muttered. Something had to be done about Jools, before the team imploded. He glanced at the invitation again. "Hermione Granger, Star Chaser?"

"Blaise, you're such a prat!" Pansy bawled, throwing a decorative cushion at him.

Blaise smiled innocently, ducking the cushion. "She said it, not me."

"When? When did she – " Pansy demanded. Then she took the last of Draco's pillows to Blaise and pummeled him a bit. He took it in very good grace. "When she was drunk! You're such a – "

"Brilliant Machiavellian mastermind?" Blaise offered when she let up at last. His jumper was askew and so was his hair.

"Git!" Pansy roared, but she retreated to Draco's bed with a piteous look.

"He could rule the world if he weren't such a lay-about," Draco told her forlornly. They regarded Blaise, who was reclining against his expanded assortment of pillows and smiling wickedly.

"When will you people get it into your heads that you will never be as brilliant as me?" he asked, tossing a large parcel up and catching it again.

No one had a reply.

**)BW(**

Ginny had one of her worst dithers over what to wear to the Christmas dinner. Fortunately, Hermione had the answer.

In fact, Ginny was amazed that Hermione could make the dinner. She, Harry, and Ron hadn't been seen by anyone for two days except quite late at night in the Gryffindor common room. Ginny knew better than to ask Harry or Ron, but she was trying to come up with a way to convince Hermione to let her in on the secret or at least let her help in some way. She didn't even mind going in blind – she just couldn't bear sitting around waiting when she knew something was up. A small part of her knew she was dreading whatever it was they were up to or whatever they had discovered, and that was also the part of her that knew, somehow, it was the ultimate secret. The ultimate game plan. The ultimate discovery or revelation or agenda.

The end of Tom Riddle.

Ginny had to be a part of that. Even the intensity of her love of Quidditch and her pleasure at the temporary return of peace to the pitch in Jools' absence couldn't keep Ginny from wondering and scheming to find out. She suspected she could enlist Pansy's help and, if it could be fixed, Luna and Neville's.

The only thing stopping her from starting immediately on a master stratagem of her own was the fact that she'd seen the trio coming and going from Dumbledore's office – that corridor, anyway – at least four times over the holidays. If Dumbledore were involved, she didn't want to interfere until she knew he'd be okay with it. He was a genius and if he wasn't telling Harry to speak to his other friends about it yet, then Ginny could route around the edge of things and pounce on Hermione in the meantime.

Just now, she and Hermione were putting the final touches on their hair, sharing the large mirror in Ginny's empty dorm.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Ginny wondered, pulling at a ringlet that rested against her neck and regarding her outfit.

"Of course it is – very appropriate," Hermione assured her, smoothing her topknot and grinning at Ginny in the mirror. Even with the few glamours and borrowed potions from Parvati, Ginny could see the dark circles and pale skin of the seventh year's face. Ginny supposed she saw it because she'd seen Hermione like this any number of times before. She reached out and gripped her friend's hand.

"All right?" she asked.

"Fine." Hermione squeezed back.

"Ready to talk?" Ginny asked, nudging her.

"Can't – not yet." Hermione glanced at her in the mirror. "I'm sorry, Ginny. When – when we're ready, I'll tell you what I can."

"Isn't it always better to have friends in on the joke?" Ginny prodded.

"In this case, no. The fewer people, the better." Hermione sighed, sinking down and slumping back against the mirror. "Dumbledore convinced Harry to tell Ron and I everything, but – I really do think it's better with just the three of us." She saw Ginny's face and gave her a crooked smile. "Don't worry. There'll be plenty to do here and …" she groaned. "Oh, I wish I could just – I'm sorry."

"It's – it's okay," Ginny told her, still trying to process and log all this new stuff carefully away. Secretive though she was, Hermione had just given Ginny a wealth of new information and she was determined to have it ready when she needed it. "I'll not bother you again. And I'll see that no one else does, either."

"That's sweet, but I can take care of myself," Hermione murmured. She glanced up at Ginny with hooded eyes. "It's soon, Gin. I don't – I don't know what's going to happen after the holiday but – it's close." She shook her head. "It's Christmas. Let's let this be the normal day. I'm letting everything go today."

"And I expect there'll be a few things – or should I say people? – at the dinner to take your mind off things," Ginny teased, offering her friend a hand up.

Hermione took it, scowling. "If you are referring to Zabini – "

"That Slytherin with the lovely teeth?" Ginny asked innocently, dodging a slap. "Certainly not. He's a _Slytherin_, after all!"

"And what about certain blond Slytherins who have chest duels and snogs in dark alleys?" Hermione shot back.

"You're cruel and unusual," Ginny assured her, ducking toward the doorway.

"Take me, coach, take me now!" Hermione whispered in Ginny's ear. Ginny shrieked and it was Hermione's turn to dodge away into the common room.

"Making with the violence in honor of the day?"

Ginny grinned as she broke off pursuit and threw herself at her brother. "Happy Christmas, Ron!"

"Oy! Where's the jumper?" he demanded, pulling back and noting Ginny's conspicuous lack of Weasley jumper. His own, slightly too large this year, was, as usual, maroon.

"Do we have to wrestle you lot into them this year?" Harry asked. His jumper was green to match his eyes and Ginny noticed the large yellow "H" on it had spectacles just like his.

"No, we have a social engagement and jumpers are not the dress code," Hermione primly.

"But Quidditch robes are?" Harry looked skeptical.

"As it happens," Hermione said, her nose in the air. "Come, Ginevra."

"Ginevra?" Ginny demanded as they left Harry and Ron laughing in the common room.

"I suppose some people say _Ginerva_," Hermione said. She was running by the time Ginny figured out when she was referring to.

"Granger, I'll poke your eyes out!" Ginny hollered, half a step behind her as they dove down the stairs.

"Zabini, help!" Hermione shrieked, diving behind the dark Slytherin, who was waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh, a damsel in distress." Blaise was clearly delighted. "Never fear, Hermione. I'll defend you."

"Like hell!" Ginny gasped, skidding to a halt in front of him. He folded his arms. "Oh, go on!" Ginny begged. "One little Bat Bogey Hex?"

"Hermione, what did you do?" Blaise wondered over his shoulder.

"Absolutely nothing," Hermione said breathlessly. "She's mad."

"One teensy Full Body Bind?" Ginny pleaded. She wrinkled her nose. "Nice jumper, Zabini."

"Thanks, Draco made it." Blaise moved out of her way so Ginny could advance on Hermione.

"Okay, I swear I won't taunt you anymore!" Hermione said, diving behind Blaise again and peeking over his shoulder. Ginny could see how pleased Blaise was with the proximity.

"I'll forgive you – if you'll let Zabini hold your hand all the way to dinner," Ginny said angelically.

"No, no, no!" Hermione cried, backing away from them both.

Blaise smiled at her as Ginny advanced, wand raised. "I wouldn't push her, Hermione. You didn't see her hex Draco fifth year in Umbridge's office. You don't want that coming out your nose and nor do I." He glanced at Ginny, his smile on the wicked side. "She looks pretty serious to me."

"Oh, fine!" Hermione threw up her hands. Glowering at Ginny, she grabbed Blaise's hand and dragged him off. Ginny laughed and laughed, then pointed and laughed some more.

"I'll get you, Weasley!" Hermione bellowed over her shoulder when Blaise put his arm around her. Her struggle was sadly unconvincing. "As for you, Zabini … well, that's the ugliest jumper I've ever seen!" Her voice echoed away down the passage.

"Good job, Weasley."

Ginny's heart stuttered as Draco wandered into the entrance hall. _He doesn't look dashing at all_, she told herself firmly.

"Good job what?" she asked.

"Star Chaser Hermione Granger appears to have been caught again."

"It's not hard to fix, as you probably noticed," Ginny pointed out. She frowned. "She was supposed to take you to dinner."

"Yes, I feel alone and forgotten," he assured her.

"Guess it's up to me." Ginny focused all her attention on not blushing.

"I don't mind. You'll forgive me for not holding your hand."

"Oh, absolutely."

They started after Blaise and Hermione, a respectful distance between them. Ginny was grateful that her friend and Blaise were making such a racket. Listening to their banter kept her mind off the blond strolling along beside her. Every one of her senses was leaning toward him while every part of her brain was pulling back.

"Nice dinner attire," Draco said after a few minutes of silence.

"It's the dress code," Ginny explained. "We don't get to wear our formal competition robes as much as we'd like."

"You'll get to again sooner than I'd like," he muttered.

"What? You think we're not ready for Slytherin?" she demanded, forgetting her nerves.

"No, I think I'm not ready to watch you," he retorted. "They're mean, Weasley. Vicious. Godkin's in a girly little strop with me and he'll want to damage as much of my team as possible."

"So trust us – we can take it," she told him. "The worst thing you can do is underestimate us." When he didn't speak, she added, "We're not overconfident. We're not arrogant like Godkin. We know what we can and can't do. That's our strength."

He was still silent, but he was watching her; she felt it. She was going red and wanted to hit herself.

"You're right," he surprised her by saying.

Ginny thanked every star she could think of when they emerged into a hallway where a large wooden doorway stood waiting.

"This door isn't normally here," Blaise was saying to Hermione.

"Sure it is," she said. She glanced at Ginny with a sour expression. "Are we officially here?"

"Yes. You can let go now."

Hermione leapt away from Blaise, who pouted.

"Let's go." Ginny strode to the door and pushed it open. Laughter greeted her and warm firelight poured into the corridor.

"Ginny! Coach! About time, we're starving!" Adrienne was laughing.

"You're always hungry," Hannah pointed out. "How's it going, Mione?"

"We're athletes. It's to be expected," Patrice countered. "Hurry up, you lot, I want ham." She waved at the table on which food had yet to appear.

"All right, all right!" Ginny took a seat beside Betina and Parvati, trying to ignore the feeling of deprivation when Draco took a seat further up the table between Pansy and Hermione.

"I think the coach should say a few words before we eat," Susie suggested with a gleam in her eye.

"Speech! Speech!" everyone called.

Draco rolled his eyes. "This picnic wasn't _my_ idea, Bones."

"It won't be the same, coach," Bulstrode said innocently. "No speech, no eating."

"Oh, for god's sake!" Draco glared around at them all. "You all look absurd. Why are you wearing your formal Quidditch robes?"

"Seemed the thing." Pansy smoothed her robe. "That doesn't count as a speech, Draco."

With the eyes of the entire team on him, Draco scowled, shoved back his chair, and stood. "Fine." He cleared his throat. "If you don't all kick Slytherin's arse in our next match, I will skin you alive and hang you from the Owlry rafters. Amen."

There was a resounding chorus of "eww!" but everyone laughed. Food suddenly sprang up along the table and Draco began dishing up at once. Everyone else followed suit, the din astounding. Ginny could just hear Parvati and Betina who sat immediately on either side.

"Where did all this food come from?" Betina wanted to know.

"House elves," Ginny said. "Hermione has some pull with one of them. She put in a special request and since the castle's so empty this year, it wasn't much of a challenge to convince them to do a little extra. They were keen."

"And this room!" Parvati bit into her buttered bun and stared around. "I don't know how Hermione found it, but – "

"It's called the Come and Go room," Ginny said. "The Room of Requirement." She leaned close. "Remember two years ago when we did DA practice? Same room, different requirements."

"Wow!" Parvati started around. "I always wondered why we couldn't ever find it again." She lowered her voice. "Look, speaking of the DA. I know you probably don't know, either, but Ron and Harry and Hermione – they're up to something again, aren't they?"

Ginny sighed. "You're right, they won't tell me."

Parvati's eyes gleamed. "So – DA again?"

Ginny sighed. "They won't say anything, Parvati. I mean, they won't even tell Neville or Luna or I, and we were with them at the Ministry." She rubbed her forehead, suddenly tired. "There's no way they'll let the DA in on anything."

"Who says we need permission just to practice?" Parvati retorted. Ginny stared at her. "What?" the seventh year demanded. When Adrienne and Betina looked their way, she dropped her voice. "Look, if it's something big – it's something big this time, don't you think?"

Ginny nodded vigorous. "Most definitely." She frowned. "It's just – Hermione did tell me Dumbledore encouraged Harry to tell her and Ron everything, only he didn't apparently tell him to tell anyone else. And Dumbledore – well, he knows what he's about, doesn't he?"

"Gin, we all need to be ready, even if we don't know precisely what's up. The trio like to think that everything only happens to them, but really, we all need practice. We need to be prepared." She took a breath. "They'll need backup when something goes down."

A slow smile spread across Ginny's face. "You're right." She thought for a moment. "I know at least ten DA members who would be glad to start again. And I bet Parkinson and Bulstrode would join up, too."

"You really think so?" Parvati regarded the two Slytherins with evident doubt.

"They've nowhere to go – they need to be able to protect themselves." Ginny watched Pansy flick a bit of broccoli at Natalie. The fourth year shrieked and flicked it back. "Plus, Pa – they're just as concerned about whatever's up as we are."

"Okay." Parvati hesitated. "Who else?"

"Nev, definitely." Ginny paused. "Actually, I think he'd be the natural leader without Harry there."

"You think?"

"I know," Ginny assured her. "He really hit his stride these last few years and he loved the DA more than anyone. He's in and he'll take the lead."

"I know this probably sounds stupid," Parvati said slowly. "What about the team?"

"What about it?"

"I'm just worried," Parvati said. "The DA was always a great secret and – well, if half the team vanishes from practice …"

"Who says we'd skip practice?" Ginny demanded.

"I don't know, Gin – there's only so much time every day and if things get heavy, we'll have to choose."

Ginny wanted to object – they shouldn't have to choose. But then, she remembered Hermione's plea to cover for her if she started missing practice. _This is war_, Ginny thought. _We will have to choose, in the end_.

"We'll have to have rotating DA meetings – not meet all together, you know," Ginny decided. "I don't think any of the teachers would object, necessarily, but we probably don't want them clued in to what we're doing. They'd make a big thing out of it and make us include everyone."

"Why shouldn't we include everyone?" Parvati pointed out.

Ginny paused. "I – I can't say much but I know there are students in the castle who – who aren't on our side."

Parvati looked alarmed. "Whose side? Who are you talking about?"

"I mean, kids who are or may be – well, may be taking the Mark."

"You know this?" Parvati was deadly serious. "That's a major accusation."

"I know Park – I know some of the Slytherins are concerned." Ginny sighed. "Look, one thing at a time. For the moment, we really need to keep quiet. The DA needs a united front and we need to prepare to be the first line of defense, so that even if we can't trust everyone else, we're prepared to defend them."

Parvati exhaled. "You're right." She looked around the table. "When do we start?"

Ginny took a deep breath, her own eyes coming to rest on Draco, who was laughing with Bulstrode. Suddenly, Ginny's eyes locked with Pansy's. The Slytherin raised her eyebrows.

"Tonight." Ginny met Parvati's eyes again. "We start tonight."

**)BW(**

_TBC_


	15. The Third Match

A/N: I can't believe I'm actually getting to write this, but I'm actually writing this at 39,000 feet. No kidding! I'm flying across the Pacific right now and WRITING FAN FICTION. Am I a simple girl with simple pleasures? Oh, yeah, baby! This is also one of my favorite chapters, so the thrill of having finished a lot of it while I fly to a new life in deepest East Asia is one I will treasure for the rest of my natural life. Thanks so much to those of you who've been reviewing. You're telling me to keep at it, encouraging me to take my readers seriously (you guys put so much thought into the plot! It's inspiring and just a bit intimidating!), and kindly threaten me when I fail to update for months at a time. You're spectacular, thank you!

Dedicated to my beloved Twilight (aren't most chapters these days?) who reads my work and tells me all about how much she enjoys it. I love all my reviewers, but to hear it from someone you know is especially special. Twi, I'm going to miss you SO much! Send Tank my way ASAP and hide out in her luggage!! Love you!

Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.R.'s. Sincerest thanks to the Goddess of pro-fic for a world in which I can gaily romp until I'm ready to create my own.

**)BW(**

"Last time we met, we were really fighting Umbridge," Neville said, his eyes sweeping the Room of Requirement, holding every gaze. "Now, we may be fighting the real thing. Maybe Death Eaters, maybe worse. But together, we're stronger. We'll practice so that when we have to fight, we'll win." He smiled. "Welcome to the DA."

Ginny applauded with the rest as Neville concluded his speech.

"Wow, you were right!" Parvati called to her over the noise, pounding her hands together. "Nev's going to be a great leader."

"And he won't make a scene about Harry and Ron and Hermione not being around," Ginny agreed, giving Neville a whistle for good measure. He glanced their way, grinning and ducking his head. His ears were redder than Ron's had ever been.

"Good job!" Ginny said warmly as the crowd broke into groups, and Neville came to join them.

"Nah – I just believe in what we're doing," he said. He gave her a half-hug. "Thanks, Gin. Parvati. I've kind of been waiting for this to happen, for someone to get the DA back. It's brilliant!"

"Yes, it is," Luna agreed as she wandered up. Ginny noticed she was wearing her radish earrings for the occasion. "Neville, you are a rather good leader, I think. And what will you two do about Quidditch, now we have the DA back?" she asked, turning her unsettling eyes on Ginny and Parvati.

"I – we – that is," Parvati articulated. She glanced at Ginny.

"We haven't thought that far ahead yet," Ginny jumped in quickly. "We'll worry about it – "

"We won't worry about it because we don't have to." Pansy slid in beside Ginny. The sixth year saw a glint in her eye that hadn't been there a few hours before at the Christmas party. Pansy considered Neville carefully for a long moment. Then she stuck her out her hand. He jumped. "Don't be a wimp, Longbottom. I won't take that rubbish from you anymore; not after that speech."

Slowly, and as though he expected to be smote at any moment, Neville offered his hand. Pansy gave it a good hard shake and then dropped it hastily. "I'll skin you if you say a word about this to anyone."

"The DA's a secret, Parkinson," Ginny reminded her. "He's not going to speak about it."

"Right. About that." Pansy eyed them all as Millicent pulled in beside her. "Millie and I have a few ideas about our people being allowed to join as well."

"Don't call me that," Millicent grumbled, nudging her.

Sensing a return to topics of business, Neville immediately stood taller and stopped looking as though he wanted to bolt. "Your people being Slytherins."

Pansy opened her mouth, but Neville held up a hand. "I don't mean that like, 'Ooh, big evil!' I just wanted to clarify. From what I could tell, the Quidditch team could be your people as well." He raised his eyebrows and Ginny marveled at his nerve.

"Oh, bite me, you overconfident prat," Pansy said with no venom at all. "Yeah, I meant both."

"Okay, it's like I said tonight, then," Neville said. "And I know most everyone agrees. If you'd vouch for them, that you would trust them with your life, as Ginny and Parvati and Susie vouched for you two, you can bring them in." He paused. "I'm not saying this because you're Slytherins, I'd say this to anyone. If someone is Marked, they're out. That's it – they're a danger to us and to others."

"But what you're not saying is that we're training so we can protect everyone, even if they can't be part of this group," Ginny added. "That includes kids who are marked; it includes everyone who's not on Voldemort's side."

Everyone but Neville winced. Ginny winced, too, because she had almost called him Tom Riddle.

"Okay, I vouch for Blaise," Millicent said quickly.

"I do, too." Ginny shook Tom Riddle from her mind. Millicent shot her a surprised look. "What?" Ginny said, shrugging . "I know something you don't know."

"Don't be too sure," Millicent muttered, but she couldn't grudge Ginny after that show of solidarity.

"I vouch for Draco," Pansy said, her eyes narrowing. She looked meaningfully at Ginny, but Ginny was too busy trying to control her blush to back her up. All she managed was a nod.

Neville frowned. "All right," he said slowly. "Next meeting we bring this to the others."

"Why?" Pansy demanded. "It's because, what? You don't like him?"

"Okay, he was an absolute rat bastard to everyone in this group two years ago," Parvati said, her eyes narrowing. "He – and you two and Zabini, come to that – helped Umbridge catch us the last time there was a DA." She held up her hand. The scarring from the punishing quills Umbridge had used in her detentions stood out against her dark skin.

"Parvati," Neville said warningly. "We're not playing the blame game."

"That rhymes, you know," Luna said. Ginny glanced at her. Her friend was swaying as though to music.

"Look, what were we supposed to do?" Pansy snarled. Ginny saw her hands curl into fists. "We were scared. Hearing that a bunch of your classmates are declaring war on teachers – how would you feel?"

"Stop it!" Ginny didn't remember getting between the two seventh years but there she was with her hands raised. "What's the matter with you? Five minutes ago we were teammates. We had each other's backs. Now we're throwing accusations around."

"It's not on," Susie agreed as she stepped up beside Pansy. "I thought I taught you two better manners than that."

Parvati took a deep breath and Millicent gripped Pansy's arm.

"Sorry, Parkinson," Parvati muttered at last. "I thought I was over fifth year. It's just – it's hard to forget."

"I'm – I'm sorry you had to go through that," Pansy said slowly. "It's not my fault and we saw things differently then. But I am sorry."

"Not to worry," Parvati said. "I've got your back."

"I've got yours."

"That was sweet," Luna said. She was still swaying.

"No it wasn't!" Pansy shouted. "Not sweet!" She noticed the swaying. "Are you mad, Lovegood?"

"Perhaps a bit," Luna said agreeably. "I suspect Nargles are to blame. Or hobgoblins."

"You are mad," Millicent said, eying her with evident apprehension.

"Luna's a genius, actually," Dean Thomas assured them, clapping a hand on Neville's shoulder. "We through here, Nev? Seamus and I are off to the library." He grinned. "Need to brush up on defensive spells and the like." He glanced sideways. "Ginny, can I have a word with you first?"

"Yeah, sure." Ginny gave the circle a little wave and followed Dean across the room to a set of chairs. "What's up?" she asked, taking a seat on an obliging table instead.

Dean dug his hands into his pockets. Ginny suppressed a smile. She remembered that gesture from when they had briefly gone out the year before.

"Maybe you don't know anything," he began. "And don't get me wrong, Neville's going to be a bang up leader for the DA, but …"

"Where are the founders?" Ginny finished, rocking back on her hands. She'd expected the question but wasn't really sure how to answer.

"I'm assuming they're up to something and if you don't know, that's fine," he said quickly. "Just …"

"You're right, I don't know and they won't tell me," she admitted with a sigh. She felt like she'd told that story a lot lately. "Whatever it is, it's important. But they need space right now. To figure it all out. When they're ready – if they're ever ready – trust that Ron and Hermione will come to us."

"Harry, though …"

"He is a bit pigheaded about his friends being in danger, isn't he?" Luna's voice came from behind them.

"That's Harry," Ginny agreed, sliding over on the table so the Ravenclaw could join them.

"That's why Ron and Hermione are so good, I think," Luna went on, hopping up on the table beside Ginny and twisting one of her radish earrings. "They know when to call for help."

"Thank god for that," Dean muttered. Ginny glanced at him and he gave a rueful chuckle. "Harry never knows when to tell other people what's up. We'd not hear a thing if Ron and Hermione weren't on the case as well."

"You're probably right," Ginny agreed.

"So – no trio," Dean said, chewing his lip.

"Disappointed?" Luna asked. "I'm not, actually. I like them all, they've been very nice to me. But I'm ready to be strong by myself now."

Ginny smiled at her. "We all are, aren't we?"

**)BW(**

The day of the girls' match with Slytherin dawned a week later, bright and expectact. Ginny was deeply grateful she wasn't starting against Slytherin, but her stomach was in knots for those who were. She watched Patrice, Adrienne, and Pansy rise into the air. None of the reserves were in the locker rooms – all of them sat out on the benches just outside.

"Breathe, just breathe," Hermione was muttering to her right. Ginny glanced at her friend, unsure for whom the advice was meant. Hermione noticed the look and smiled weakly, chewing her lip. "It's for me."

"Good advice, though," Millicent said from some way down the bench. She was taking deep breaths, but her face was pale as she fixed her eyes on Pansy.

"I may wet myself," Blaise said brightly.

Everyone on the bench winced. He grinned. So did most of them.

"You're disgusting," Hermione told him, switching from her lip to her finger nails. Blaise caught her hand and pulled it away from her mouth. Hermione appeared ready to object but then the starting whistle blew and she was on her feet, squeezing the life out of Blaise's hand and shrieking.

Ginny jumped up as well, her heart in her throat as Slytherin took the Quaffle. She couldn't help noticing, even as ninety percent of her focused on the game, that Jools stayed seated. She did seem to be watching the game, but she wasn't saying a word. No screaming, no nail biting. _She might as well be dead_, Ginny thought, and was instantly horrified at herself. She focused that last ten percent of herself on the game with some difficulty.

High above, the girls' Chasers were playing the tamest game anyone had ever seen. No heroics, no tricks, completely by the book. The Slytherins had no idea what to do with tradition – not yet, anyway. Simple though the tactics were, they were flawlessly executed with no swerving, no fumbling – absolutely no mistakes. Slytherins were, as Draco had told them during strategy sessions, prone to expect from others what they would expect from themselves. Therefore, playing a boring, straightforward opening would totally confuse them. They would be expecting the best Chasers and the biggest, strongest Beaters. They were expecting a Seeker who would wait for the Snitch and remain a stationary target.

In fact, Betina was all over the field. When she sensed that any of the Slytherins were too interested in her position, including their beady-eyed Seeker, she would slide off to a quieter part of the pitch and sit there doing as little as possible. She had a part to play and that meant staying unharmed and unnoticed as long as possible.

In the meantime, the girls hadn't scored with their first run, but they had nearly done. The Keeper was clearly expecting a complicated play by Pansy. What he got was a straightforward throw at the center hoop, which he nearly missed because he was expecting a feint.

Despite Jools, who lurked behind them all on the bench, Ginny risked a glanced down the line of girls at Draco. He was rubbing his hands together as he watched and murmuring to Susie, who had also remained on the ground while Hannah played Keeper. Ginny wished she knew what they were talking about, but couldn't catch anything beyond a few words. At one point, Draco did glance up and catch her watching. He nodded at her, but kept his head down otherwise.

Ginny returned her attention to the game, berating herself. She needed to keep watch. The Chasers were slowly using up tactics and Ginny knew she couldn't afford to use the same ones when she got up there. Each run at the goals had to be completely different from the last. Each run had to look as though a different team was taking it.

A half hour in, Betina began to get too much attention. With the girls playing easy tactics, the Beaters' attention was wandering and it settled on the tiny Seeker. While all six Chasers tore up the pitch, the Beaters, allowed themselves to drift in Betina's direction. Ginny's hands flew to her mouth, but Betina saw them. One minute, she was sitting stationary, barely moving her head. The next she was diving toward the pitch like a bullet. Slytherin's Seeker dove recklessly after her, thinking she had seen the Snitch, but before he got near, the Slytherin Beaters were all over her. She didn't have a chance to escape them, although she was smart enough to level off before the Beaters drove her into the pitch. There was a loud groan from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, and Colin Creevey, the announcer, shouted, "Oi, you gits! That's cheating."

While Madam Hooch shouted at the Beaters and declared a penalty shot for the girls, Madam Pomphrey was on the field looking to Betina. Ginny winced – her friend was barely moving.

"Oh, pity, Malfoy. Where's your other Seeker, then?" Ginny looked up and saw Godkin as he hung above the pitch, a sneer on his face as he taunted Draco.

Draco ignored him. He was moving alongside the stretcher. He said a few words to Madam Pomphrey. She didn't look happy, but she nodded and let Draco a several of the girls take the stretcher into the lockers. The nurse pushed several bottles and bandages at Draco before letting them go.

Above, Godkin and his team were still jeering, circling like hawks. The girls did their best to ignore them. Ginny passed the minutes by running over every Chaser strategy she knew hadn't been used yet. She would need them all when she was in the air.

A figure pushed passed Ginny, cutting short her thinking time.

"Go get 'em, slugger!" Hermione patted the arrival on the back and Draco emerged from the lockers, calling, "Get in the air."

"Malfoy! What is this?" Madam Hooch demanded.

"Our Seeker's fine!" Draco called up to her. "We are allowed to give a few minutes' recovery time when they crash?"

"What? No!" Godkin was spluttering. "She was passed out! There's no way she's still playing."

"Why not? Johnson, you okay?"

"Sure, coach." Betina shrugged, like she hadn't just crash-landed under two Beaters. "I think you've got Godkin worried is all."

"That's not possible, Gus," one of the Slytherin Beaters said, shaking his head. "She was out cold. She had bruises over half her face. There's no way she's over that."

"You make sure she isn't," Godkin snarled.

"Weasley, you're in for Pansy," Draco said, pulling Ginny back to her team. "Take that penalty."

"Right, here I go." Several other people followed Ginny into the air, and though she hardly noticed, she did hear Draco calling names. "Boot, you're in for McDonald. Mill, get Patil off that broom. She's probably bleeding."

"I'm tough, I can take it," Ginny heard Parvati assuring everyone. As the assurance was followed by the thump of someone crashing, Ginny assumed she couldn't quite take it after all.

Ginny saw the Seeker above her and pulled up alongside her. "You okay? How's the body feel?"

"Johnson's similar to me," Betina's voice murmured. "Only, she's not quite as muscley; she's more of an endurance and speed kind of girl."

"Signal if it's been close to an hour, Jess," Ginny whispered. "We'll have to fake an injury or something to get you more potion."

"Sure." Jessica Bentley smiled Betina's smile and Ginny could easily see through the Polyjuice that made the blonde Slytherin appear to be the dark Hufflepuff. "This is the best charade in Hogwarts Quidditch history." Jessica actually giggled. "Let's not ruin it."

"Let's not get caught," Ginny mumbled. Well, the Polyjuice had been Hermione the Golden Prefect's idea after all ...

"Whistle's about to blow!" Millicent called as she shot passed. The expression on her face made Ginny wonder if the Slytherin wasn't out for blood.

"Good luck!" Jessica called as Ginny shot up to take the penalty shot.

"I'm going to need it," Ginny muttered as she caught Jools' glare out of the corner of her eye. She wanted to scream.

"Ignore the bint, Weasley!" Pansy ordered as she passed Ginny on her way to the pitch. "Just do your job and if Boot doesn't do hers, we can sack her."

Ginny wished the bracing words made her feel better. Instead, she felt a sinking in her stomach.

She shook herself as the Slytherin Keeper tossed her the Quaffle. She heard the whistle and decided on a Bacon Blunder. She made as though to feint and then went straight for the center hoop. The Keeper saved the shot, but he looked a bit shaken.

Ginny shrugged and flew back to join the other Chasers.

"All right, Ginny?" Patrice had a bloody lip and was steering her broom with her left hand. Adrienne had a bruise on her cheek and kept shifting around on the broom handle.

"Oh, sure." Ginny looked them over uneasily. "You two?"

Adrienne's eyes narrowed. "Oh, we're peachy."

They watched the Slytherin Chasers form up, a nasty looking bunch who clearly wanted nothing more than to flatten them. It was nothing they weren't used to, Ginny realized, except that instead of in halls and classrooms, they were on brooms. She felt somehow that the difference leveled the playing field.

"What's first?" Ginny asked Patrice.

"Adrienne thought we should try a Ravenclaw maneuver," Patrice said. "That thing where they sweep the pitch and come together just before the goal?"

"Take it around both sides and across the ground," Adrienne clarified.

"Sounds great – who's taking the Quaffle?"

The whistle blew and somehow they managed to take possession, Ginny keeping the Quaffle firmly under her arm. She wanted to take some of the heat off the other two. She did indeed take the heat, but she reminded herself that the game wasn't up to her. Her job was to play a straightforward game and keep the eyes of everyone off the second Seeker. Godkin's fury at Betina's mysterious recovery made that job harder.

Once again, they failed to score and Slytherin had an easy time of it taking possession and scoring not five minutes later. Ginny glanced up as she circled away from the goalposts. "Betina" was circling and keeping well out of range.

"We need to get more interesting," Patrice said as she sailed in beside Ginny. "If we keep this up, they'll be bored with us and focus on Jess– on Betina again."

"Let's try some spontaneity," Adrienne suggested. "Gin, how about a Nigel's Arrow to shoot the goal? Patrice, a Desgrosselier Dive. I'll do a Leap and open with the Quaffle."

Ginny swallowed. Three totally different maneuvers that didn't necessarily connect in any way. "Will do."

Patrice nodded. "And we'll get in the Beaters' way as much as possible. They're eyeing Betina again." Getting in the way of the Beaters was usually suicide, but as the entire Slytherin team was utterly confused by the lack of tactics, they weren't flying as dirty as usual. The advantage was that there weren't as many injuries as there might have been on the girls' side. The disadvantage was that the Slytherins were accidentally being spontaneous as well, and their usual strategies weren't as consistently reliable.

"We need to try harder for goals now," Patrice added as they neared the center of pitch. "If we don't try hard enough, they'll guess what we're up to. We need to put some serious effort in."

Ginny split off and prepared for Madam Hooch's whistle. Nigel's Arrow wasn't an especially challenging maneuver, but it was superficially impressive and would draw a lot of attention, even without the Quaffle. Ginny heard the whistle, saw Patrice take the Quaffle, and took off toward the Slytherin goals. As she expected, a Chaser and Beater broke off to tail her in case she was planning on taking possession from Patrice. Ginny swerved, rolled, and twisted, creating a confusing pattern through the air.

Nigel's Arrow was a maneuver discovered by Chudley Cannons ex-Chaser Barney "Barmey" Nigel in 1920. Nigel couldn't fly in a straight line to save his life. Though often detrimental to the safety of the rest of the team, the maneuver had one advantage: not one of the opposing team ever seemed to be able to keep up. Nigel's Arrow worked so well because it literally flew in the face of every sensible move one could do on a broomstick.

Also, it was much more dangerous, both to the flyer and the opposing team; by the time Ginny was halfway to the Slytherin goals, she had attracted the attention of the other Beater and both Bludgers. She swallowed, but kept moving. She could make out Adrienne gaining on the Slytherin goals. Patrice was coming up from the ground, totally ignored by both the Chasers on Adrienne's tail. Without warning, Ginny braked, dropped six feet and reversed back toward the Slytherin goals. She heard shouts as the Chaser and two Beaters behind her nearly crashed into the Ravenclaw stands.

Patrice had just taken possession when Ginny caught up with her. The Quaffle was handed off and Ginny came up low, pulling back her arm and hurling the Quaffle with all her might.

As they had expected, the Keeper had no problem deflecting the shot.

"Nice job," Ginny panted as she came up alongside Adrienne.

"You, too," Adrienne said as they pounded fists.

"I'm impressed you were in possession so long," Patrice said to the Ravenclaw. "That's no mean trick."

"Gin took both Beaters for me," Adrienne said. "The Chasers were no problem after that."

"If Patrice hadn't intercepted you, I would never have been able to take possession," Ginny put in, pounding fists with her friend. She grinned shakily. "We're pretty much geniuses, aren't we?"

Play continued in the same vein. The girls almost scored several more times, while Slytherin only just managed to score against Hannah on each pass. Susie came in for Hannah after a couple more passes, which was just as well, as Hannah was bleeding and winded from an "accidental" swipe from a Beater's bat. Though a penalty had been taken (and missed) by Patrice, Hannah was in no fit state to stay on.

"Any sign from Betina yet?" Hermione asked when she came on to replace Adrienne.

As if on cue, three things happened. Madam Hooches whistle blew to start the next play. Then "Betina" threw her arm over her head and brought it down hard. Then she took off.

"Go!" Hermione shouted, diving toward the Seeker. The rest of the team followed suit, drawing every Slytherin Chaser and Beaters' attention as they suddenly incepted all of them. Ginny went straight for Godkin, slamming into his side under pretense of catching the Quaffle.

"Oh, sorry." She grinned as she veered in front of him.

His face was ugly and Ginny kept her distance, ducking a Bludger that sailed over her head.

The chaos was only thirty seconds long. Suddenly, Colin Creevey's voice belted over the loudspeaker.

"And Betina Johnson's got the Snitch!"

Ginny actually jumped, nearly tumbling off her broom. She spotted "Betina" and curved away from the raging Godkin to catch up with her friend. The whole team was on her now, sinking to the pitch. They weren't all that surprised when Colin continued.

"Slytherin scored one hundred fifty points but the girls have caught the Snitch!" He sounded amazed. "This tie between the two teams is unprecedented in recent Hogwarts history!"

As the team sank to the pitch and "Betina" doubled over (the affects of the Polyjuice Potion had begun to wear off), the team kept close around her to hide that she was there. Not that anyone would have been able to see or hear anything suspect – the team was shrieking and yelling and jumping up and down the entire way.

Ginny smiled, then laughed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Draco. He was walking with Blaise and he was smiling at her.

**)BW(**

The team was euphoric. Never had they come so close to actually winning, and for the opposing team to be Slytherin!

None of the girls were changing – they were all cheering and hugging each other. Jessica and Johnson (the latter of whom was recovering on a stretcher propped at the back of the lockers) were the center of everyone's attention, the heroines of the hour. Jessica, who was shaking off remaining affects of the Polyjuice, was laughing and telling stories about her long wait for the Snitch to a gaggle of admirers. Johnson gripped her arm and broke in with additions of her own. Godkin's expression when "Johnson" had mysteriously recovered had become a fixation with all of them and it was a wonder no one had suffocated with laughter.

The usual and noticeable exception was Jools, who was already showered and sequestered alone in a corner of the lockers, yanking on her clothes. She looked furious, as though almost not losing was a disaster.

Draco rolled his eyes and crossed to her. "Go on, Boot, we won. Practically." He tried a smile. "Aren't you a little excited?"

She glared at him and didn't answer.

Draco sighed. "You deserve to celebrate. You're a big reason the team made it this far. You and Bones."

Still, she kept her mouth shut and continued to get dressed.

Draco was losing patience. He'd never in his life tried so hard to be decent and she was making it impossible. "Boot, get a grip. The team needs you – you're wearing them down."

"You're such a hypocrite!" she snarled, her voice low. "I'm not the one shagging another member of the team."

Draco froze. "What did you say?"

Jools was rigid, her arms clenched across her chest. "Deny it, if you can."

Draco noticed the lockers had gone very quiet. The girls in Johnson and Jessica's corner had stopped talking. Draco felt their eyes on him, on Jools who stood before him looking ... Draco couldn't decide. Desperate, maybe?

His fury bubbled in his chest, but he pushed it deep inside him, away from his eyes and his face, where it might show. He folded his arms and sneered at her. "I deny it."

Jools sneered as well, which came as something of a surprise. "Calling me a liar?"

"Stop it!" Bones was on her feet, wide-eyed. "This isn't the time or place for this! We just won our first match."

"Sort of," Adrienne muttered.

"No, she's right." Jessica, now herself again, looked back and forth between them. "That was brilliant! Wasn't it?"

"I think Malfoy called me a liar," Jools cut her off, her eyes still riveted on Draco.

"Don't make me, Boot," he warned.

"What're you lying about?" Millicent demanded.

"He's the one who's lying," Jools snapped, pointing at Draco.

"Boot, stop it," Pansy said. Draco glanced at her. Her fists were clenched, her eyes were blazing. Draco remembered that look from fifth year. "This isn't the time or place for this. If you've got a problem with the coach, you should be taking it up with him or with Bones elsewhere. We don't need the drama right now."

"Oh, it concerns all of us, though," Jools said, the sneer back with company. "We're all being affected by the coaches bad, bad behavior."

"Leave it out," Granger said, her voice low and threatening. "You're supposed to be captain. This behavior is beneath you."

"Oh, I think you'd know about that more than anyone," Jools said, turning on Granger without hesitation. "Aren't you shagging a Slytherin?"

Draco had to give Granger props. She didn't even go red. She did, however, look as though she had been slapped. "Not that it's any of your business."

"All in favor of sacking the bitch?" Pansy was shaking.

The lockers went deathly quiet.

"What did you say?" Adrienne breathed.

"Look at her, you lot!" Pansy waved her arm at Jools. "She's been having it out with everyone. She hasn't been a proper captain for weeks. This isn't the girl Weasley nominated for captain."

"Look." The small voice suddenly came from behind Granger and Draco's chest constricted.

_Oh, please_, he silently begged. _Don't do what I think you're going to_.

"Boot's fight is with me," Ginny said, stepping away from the others, even as Pansy and Granger reached out to pull her back. She shook them off. "Whatever she might say, she's hacked off because of something she thought she saw me doing. Go ahead, Boot. Let fly – tell everyone what you saw. I tried to tell you you misunderstood. I told you the truth but you wouldn't believe me." Ginny took a deep breath. "Lay into me. Get it out there. I want to fix this and I think this is the only way."

"Ginny," Granger began. Her forehead wrinkled and her eyes were over-bright.

"No, she asked for it." Jools took a quick swig from her water bottle, winced, and moved to stand in front of Ginny, sizing her up.

"Whatever she says, let her have it," Ginny murmured, probably addressing Granger, who looked ready to lunge at Jools at the earliest provocation.

"Oh, I'll have it," Jools said. Draco wondered if she wouldn't start out with some maniacal laughter.

"Our little Ginny's been a naughty girl," Jools began. "Do you know why?"

Patrice hauled Granger back. Jessica gripped Bones' sleeve. Draco suddenly noticed Blaise in the shadows by the locker room door. His face clouded as he took in the scene, but he stayed where he was.

"She's been shagging the coach."

Draco would have expected pandemonium. The silence prickled his skin and sent a chill down his back. _It's not true_, he reminded himself.

"What?" Adrienne whispered.

"Oh, yes." Jools grinned. The grin twisted her pretty face. "I've caught them together on several occasions. Hallways. Outside a club in Hogsmeade."

Again, silence.

"You said you weren't coming with us that night," Adrienne murmured, staring at her housemate.

"Of course I did, you daft bint," Jools snapped. Somehow, the grimace stayed fixed. "I couldn't keep a proper eye out if I had you lot hanging all over me, asking if I was all right."

Adrienne winced, leaning into her sister. Draco would have bet his broom the younger Ravenclaw had been asking that a lot.

"They were drunk, but not drunk enough not to remember," Jools went on. She looked easy now; she was in control and she knew it. "And again when they got back that night." She turned her eyes back to Ginny. "Well, little Gryffindor. Got anything to say for yourself?"

Draco flicked his eyes to the sixth year. Her face was tight, the emotions reigned in. Draco realized that he couldn't feel the radiance of her incredible temper. She looked cold – fireless.

"I could deny it," Ginny said softy. "But the damage is done." She glanced around the room. Draco's chest throbbed. He felt pulled toward her. Fortunately, Blaise had crept closer and was holding him back by the arm. Charging over to defend Ginny would make things worse, Draco knew that. But the impulse almost overpowered him; he could barely resist.

"No one," Ginny said slowly, her eyes flicking around, "will know for sure if you're lying or I am." She took a deep breath. "Congratulations. You got your little revenge."

"Hey!" Pansy and Granger had both stepped forward. Both had their fists clenched and both were glaring.

"I don't believe it for a second," Granger snapped.

"I think Boot's a jealous cow!" Pansy added.

"Stop it!" Hannah was on her feet. "Please, don't fight." She looked at Jools. "What a horrible thing to say about someone," she added quietly, her eyes flickering to Ginny.

"But Gin's right," Adrienne put in. "Who do we believe?"

"Why does this matter?" Patrice asked, her voice small.

"Oh, don't be thick, little girl." Jools' savage pleasure quelled Patrice. She sank back against the wall beside MacDonald. "If any of us mess about with the coach, it creates a bias. He can't carry on with one of us and be objective. You've seen how much Ginny flies. More than _you_," she said, pointing at Patrice. "Or you," she added, pointing at Adrienne.

"That's not true," Granger said. "I'd be the first to complain if Malfoy played favorites. He doesn't; never has."

"Oh, that's rich." Jools gave a derisive snort. "From the golden girl. The star Chaser."

"That was a joke!" Granger went red.

"I can't believe we're listening to this!" Pansy was red, too, and if Draco had been Jools, he'd have backed right off. "Boot's been treating us all like dung for weeks now. Why are we all putting up with this? Weasley, I saw you fight off two of the fiercest Slytherins by yourself. You know what she's saying is shite. Defend yourself!"

"Who would believe me?" Ginny repeated. She looked so hopeless. "Oh, I know you do, Parkinson." She managed a weak smile.

"Me, too!" Granger piped up.

"And me!" MacDonald added.

"You've got me, Weasley." Millicent leaned against her broom.

"Hey!" Hannah was on her feet. "What is this? Why can't we work this out?"

"Abbot, take your pacifism," Jools began, still glaring at Ginny.

"No, listen to me!" Hannah shouted. Everyone did, after that. "Look, this is a stupid thing to fight over. If we can't trust each other, who can we trust? If Ginny says she didn't, then she didn't. What about it, Gin? What did Jools really see?"

Ginny looked at the ground. This time, her cheeks did go red.

"If you want us to trust you, Gin," Patrice said kindly. "Just tell us. We believe you and we can work this out."

"This ought to be good," Jools said, leaning back against a wall and crossing her arms. She smirked, lifting her eyebrows. "Go on, then, little Ginny. What did I really see?"

Draco's shoulders tensed. Ginny swallowed, but met Jools' eyes. "When you saw us that first time," she said slowly, clearly choosing her words carefully, "we were just taking the mickey out of Parkinson. That's all."

There was a moment of silence. Draco let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"True, Pansy?" Jessica asked.

Pansy pressed her lips together. "True," she said. She nodded at Ginny and Draco suspected it was silent thanks to her for not giving her and Potter away.

"And what about the club?" Jools asked, her sneer spreading. "I know what I saw there. Do you want me to tell?"

"I'd like to know why the hell you followed us," Pansy began.

"You could have come with," Adrienne added. "I know coach invited you."

"I _saw_," Jools repeated, her eyes gleaming. Draco tensed again and Blaise pressed down on his shoulder. "I saw snogging. A whole lot of snogging."

Draco jumped at the explosion of noise that rippled across the lockers. Pansy and Granger were throwing expletives at Jools. Hannah, Adrienne, Bones, and Johnson stared at Ginny, their eyes round. Patrice and McDonald put their arms around Ginny. Parvati, semi-conscious on a stretcher just beside them, gripped Ginny's hand. Jessica and Millicent sat speaking quietly to each other, worry wrinkling their foreheads.

Jools stood amid the chaos, infuriating satisfaction pressed into every line of her face. This, Draco realized, was what she had been waiting for all these weeks – the chance to take Ginny down in the most public way, to ruin her in the eyes of everyone.

Through the maelstrom came a small, but distinctly audible voice. "I resign."

Draco's insides froze.

Slowly, the lockers quieted down. Every eye turned to the speaker.

"What was that?" Jools asked, triumph at the edge of her voice. Draco had to fight the impulse to go for his wand.

"I said, I quit." Ginny's eyes were full of tears but she didn't let a single one fall. "You win, Boot. You got what you wanted. I can't deny snogging the coach and it was wrong. If I stay, you'll keep treating everyone else badly because you resent me. You've got to keep Malfoy. Look how far we've come and he's only been coaching a few months. He _has _to stay. I don't – there are four other incredible Chasers. So, bye."

With more dignity than Draco had ever seen from anyone before in his life, she picked up her duffel and walked quietly out of the lockers, still in her kit.

The silence, this time, sizzled.

"You bitch!" Everyone gasped as Granger gave Jools an almighty shove. Draco got a look at her face – she was crying.

Pansy was right behind her. "You've ruined us! All because of your stupid little crush on Draco."

"What?" Adrienne stared. "Jools, you like Draco?"

"Of course not." But Jools wasn't shoving Granger back.

"Don't you lot get it?" Pansy demanded. "This little tirade on Weasley. It's all Boot's little vendetta to get Ginny back. She's jealous."

The arguments began again and Draco saw, with horror, the divide. Some were adamant that Ginny's behavior needed to be known and it was wrong. Others were furious that Jools would humiliate a team member that way and that she had no right. Others looked lost, totally unsure who or what to believe in.

And, Draco realized as Blaise's hand on his shoulder began to cut off his circulation, it wasn't his fight. Eventually, he would have to account for his part in the snog, but for now, this was about the team, not the coach.

He shook Blaise off and ducked through the locker room doors after Ginny. He could see her nearing the castle doors and jogged to catch up.

"Weasley!" he called. She didn't stop but continued toward the steps to the castle. "Weasley, wait!"

"Don't," she said without turning. "Please, Malfoy, just – "

He was five meters behind her when he slowed to a walk. "Don't leave, Weasley. You're too important to the team, you're too important to – "

"Draco, _please_!" she cut him off without turning or slowing. "Please, it just – you're hurting me. Let me go."

He stumbled to a halt, watching as she took the steps two at a time and vanished through the castle doors. His chest ached and he pressed the heel of his hand against it.

He only lasted five minutes before he tore after her.

**)BW(**

Ginny made it to the third floor before her legs wouldn't carry her on. She paused, leaning against a wall in a thankfully deserted corridor and stared through a collection of unshed tears. She couldn't order her thoughts, she couldn't understand what had just happened. She could only feel – it was a throbbing pain in her chest, a searing tension in her throat, a weight of responsibility pressing against her mind. She couldn't outrun it; couldn't escape it. Instead, she let it engulf her.

She wasn't sure how she heard the footsteps over the ringing in her ears. She did hear them and, desperate to be alone, she stumbled through the nearest door and into a dark classroom. She crossed the room and sank down at the back, as though the desks might hide her in case the person followed her in. She realized she had nowhere to run and shrank against the wall, wrapping her arms around her knees and burying her face.

She knew who it was as soon as the door opened and closed. She shook, but didn't move as she listened to the footsteps track across the room toward her. She pressed her back against the wall and seriously considered illegal Apparation. The only thing that stopped her (apart from the anti-Apparation spells on Hogwarts) was the knowledge that she would be caught and have to talk to people. If she stayed where she was, she only had to talk to one.

The footsteps stopped and Ginny felt hands on her arms.

"Weasley," a husky voice said. Ginny knew then that she had wanted that voice as much as she feared hearing it now. In the end, she always wanted it to be him.

She wanted to tell him to go away – she wanted to hurt and hurt and hurt alone. Owing to her aching throat, she couldn't say anything.

"Please look at me." The hands slid along her arms, ran over her hair. She couldn't stop shaking.

"Please," he begged. "You're scaring me, Ginny."

Somehow, she was able to lift her head, to look at him through the gloom. His eyes intimidated and comforted her, and she let the world that wasn't his eyes dissolve for a moment, melt away and diminish. His hands paused when she moved, but as she sat watching him in silence, they began to move again, tracing a pattern over her cheeks and neck, across her nose and off her chin. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hands, feeling them slip against the tears on her cheeks.

It was a long moment before he spoke again. "I know you're tired and I know you're upset," he said slowly, still moving his hands across her skin. "But please, Ginny ..."

He paused and she opened her eyes. "Please what?" she whispered, her hope a small spark in the gloom. She knew somewhere in the back of her mind that behaving this way with him was what had got her in such trouble in the first place, but she couldn't stop now. She was just too tired. _All right_, she admitted and no part of her had the strength to argue. _I want him to kiss me right now. In fact, if he shagged me right now I think I'd feel a whole lot better_.

"Please," he said again, "please don't quit the team."

The dam broke and Ginny felt herself drowning in the rush of tears.

**)BW(**

_Oh, no_. Draco froze as her sobs shook them both. He was out of his element and irrationally wished Blaise were there to tell him what to do.

_I'm pathetic and Blaise must never ever know I thought that_.

It wasn't easy to hug someone who was curled up against a wall and shaking uncontrollably, but Draco did get his arms around her. He pressed his cheek to hers and tried to steady them both as Ginny rocked back and forth.

"You're scaring me again," he murmured in her ear, not sure if she could hear him.

"I'm sorry!" she gasped, still shaking. Draco felt her tears sink into his shirt. "I'm so sorry for everything, coach!"

He pulled back, staring at her glittering face. "Sorry?" he repeated. "Sorry for what?"

She was beginning to breathe properly, the sobs quieting and the tears slowing.

"It's all my fault," she breathed through a final sob. "The team's going to hell, Malfoy, and it's all my fault."

Draco started at her. Stared hard. He couldn't believe her sometimes. "What is wrong with you?"

She flinched, leaning away from him against the wall and Draco wondered if the question wouldn't be better asked of _him_. "That's not what I meant." He paused, unable to stop his hands as they brushed her arms down to her wrists.

"I usually wonder what _isn't _wrong with me," Ginny muttered, closing her eyes but not pulling away from his touch. "It's a much shorter list to make."

"Weasley," he gritted. He didn't know what he'd do if she said another word against herself, but ... his hands tightened over hers. "You're so – "

"So what?" Ginny said. She leaned her head back against the wall and watched him. She looked completely exhausted and now Draco seriously considered clubbing himself to death. She shook her head. "I know it's my fault. I wouldn't blame you if you hated me right now. Good riddance to me – now the team can actually function."

"Hate you?" he repeated. His self control was keeping him from something – he wasn't sure what. Unfortunately, it was also rapidly slipping away. He suddenly remembered the last time he'd been drunk and swallowed hard.

"Hate me," she said in a hoarse, deadened voice. "Because of what I did – what I let happen. Because I'm the reason the team's falling apart. Because – I don't know – I hate myself sometimes."

She started to turn her face away, the pain and guilt on it catching in the faint light of remaining day, but Draco caught and tugged her chin up. When her eyes met his, swimming with new tears she was clearly fighting to hold back, Draco's self control vanished. He pulled her forward, his hand sliding up to cup her face, and pressed his lips to hers.

He knew he should be hoping she would push him off – that either she didn't want this or that she had a little self control that he didn't. Luckily for him – _Unluckily!_ he snapped at himself – she was in an unobliging mood. She lifted her face desperately and slid her arms around his neck. Her legs uncurled and tucked under her and suddenly she was flush against him. His other hand slid along her jaw and across her neck before sliding down her side. She sighed against his lips, as if to blow them open. Draco's tongue slid along her lower lip and as his hand brushed her cheek again, it slipped against the new tears.

If it had been anyone but Ginny, he could never have pulled away at that moment. He wanted nothing but to kiss her all day, possibly all night, and never, ever let the warmth of her away from him. But it was Ginny and she was crying. He had to know.

_It's all my fault ... I hate myself sometimes_. Her words rang in his ears as he pulled back, his hand on her jaw forcing her lips back just far enough for him to say, with the little breath he had, "How could you think I hate you?" He paused and added, "And how in Merlin's name could you possibly work out that you're to blame for us snogging all the time?"

She gave a wet laugh, leaning into him and pressing her tears into his shoulder. "I don't know. I don't exactly tell you to stop. As for you hating me, I did Bat Bogey you that one time."

"Believe me, I've not forgotten." He rested his head against hers and pulled her closer. He liked the way she fit against him, even as they knelt awkwardly on the floor. He could feel the Quidditch muscle in her arms, but there was softness as well and those soft places seemed to welcome him. "That hex was the most disgusting thing I've ever felt in my life, Weasley."

"Even more disgusting than being a slug?" she asked. He could feel her tears soaking through his robes but he could also see the earlier exhaustion melting away, taking some of the pain with it.

"Actually, yeah." Draco winced, remembering his mistaken attack on Potter when half his groupies had been in the same compartment. "At least as a slug, your higher brain functions are basically useless."

Ginny was still. "We should never have treated you like that." She looked down.

"Why?" Draco sighed. He loved her hair. "We probably would have done the same."

"Doesn't make it right of us," she argued. "We were so righteous, especially after the Ministry fiasco. But we were such hypocrites."

"Eat or be eaten," he insisted. "You were defending yourselves."

"No, defending ourselves would have been using disarming curses or Stupefy of something," she said, gripping him more tightly. "Instead, I used a curse that could have really hurt you. Side effects of Bat Bogey hexes are really not good. You could have been seriously dehydrated or got rabies or something."

"Rabies?"

"Sure. Bats carry a dormant form of rabies," she said. "When they bite, they infect you with a live form of the virus."

"That's vile."

"I could have hurt you."

Draco shook his head. "I thought we were over this." He gave her a squeeze. "And I'm still bothered that you're blaming yourself for – for whatever we're doing. I mean, look at us!"

When she pulled back and looked up at him, he could see, even through the gloom, that she was a bit red. "Look at us indeed."

Draco studied her face in the poor light. He could see shadows of her long nose, dark eyes, round cheeks. Her hair seemed to glow, the two little plaits at her neck twinkling. He reached for one, running his fingers over it and watching it catch and throw off the light.

"What does this mean?" Ginny said at last.

"Dunno," Draco admitted. His hand on her hair gave him ideas about her neck and soon his lips were against it. She gasped, dropping her chin and giving him more. He frowned suddenly, pulling back to look at her. "I bet Blaise does, though. Bloody know-it-all."

Ginny laughed, the sound still wet with tears. "Zabini's a sharp one. He knows a lot." Her eyes softened and began to water again. "He cares so much about you."

Draco wrinkled his nose.

"He does," she insisted, though she grinned at his expression. "If you knew …"

"Knew what?" Draco asked, his eyes returning to her neck.

"He's done a lot for you, to keep you safe."

Draco was distracted. "What?"

"It's his place, not mine." She brushed her fingers tips across his cheek. His eyes fell shut and the fingers moved across his temples, down his nose, over his lips. "He's right. You're very worth protecting."

Under normal circumstances, he would have sought Blaise out at once, but he couldn't seem to move away from her fingers.

"Stop changing the subject," he said, when he could think again, "and tell me why you're blaming yourself for all that rubbish with Boot."

Ginny's fingers stilled and when Draco opened his eyes, she looked terribly unhappy again. "I'm taking responsibility," she said. "I knew whatever Jools thought about us was hurting her and instead of proving her wrong, I went and did the opposite."

Draco anger at Jools was checked by the need to persuade Ginny that she wasn't guilty of anything. "Jools' issues are her own," he said bluntly, taking Ginny's face in his hands and forcing her to meet his eyes. "Listen to me, Weasley. The entire rest of the team had no idea anything was going on. They wouldn't have any idea if it weren't for Jools because we never brought anything to the pitch or to the game. I can be objective – the issue is Jools."

"She's hurting," Ginny insisted. She held up a hand when Draco began to protest. "No, listen, Malfoy, I _know_. I've been where she is and it hurts so much. What she thought about us before we actually did anything wasn't my responsibility, I see that now. But now it's something real."

Draco had no idea what to say, other than, "Fine. But listen to me, Weasley. I'm in this, too. I've never tried to stop you or this or myself. So if you're going to place blame, make sure you cut me half."

She was torn, he could see. After a moment of strain, she suddenly adopted a sulky face.

"A few months ago, I would have done without thinking about it," she muttered, sticking out her lip.

Draco was unreasonably pleased. He was also happy to suck the lip. Ginny didn't seem to mind, either.

"What," she gasped after several minutes,"_the hell_ are we going to do?" She looked down, then met his eyes. "I was serious. I won't go back to the team when my being there is the cause of all this. No, listen to me, Draco." He couldn't interrupt when she used his first name. The way her voice curled around his name took his breath for a moment. "Maybe I'm not responsible for Jools, but I am part of the reason that blow-up happened. The girls need to decide how to make things right and I can't be a part of that. It _is_ an unwritten rule that you don't get into it with the coach. That's true in pro-Quidditch as well, ask anyone."

Draco wanted to object, but remembered a number of similar team conflicts appearing in the _Daily Prophet _over the years that usually ended in the coach, player, or both, getting the boot.

"So the girls will have to do decide themselves how to fix the team," Ginny went on, her voice thick. "They'll have to decide what to do about Jools and I without our input. They'll have to decide what to do about you."

Draco had known that since this became an issue. He had done a lot for the team, but they didn't owe him anything, either.

"So what do we do now?" he asked.

Ginny slid forward into his lap. She tangled her arms around his neck and said against his mouth, "We wait."

**)BW(**

Ginny didn't know how she made it back to the Gryffindor common room or how she got passed her brother and Harry without being stopped. Somehow, she stumbled up the steps to her dormitory and fell onto her four-poster.

"Ginny?" Lacey, one of her four dorm mates, asked tentatively. Ginny thought distantly that she ought to be surprised. It had been months since Lacey had acknowledged her existence.

"She not in just now," Ginny said, yanking the hanging closed around her bed and collapsing onto her pillows.

"Can I – are you all right?"

Ginny thought she should appreciate the gesture. Instead, the tears pooling in her eyes spilled over.

"Bad day," she murmured through a tight throat.

"Can I do anything?" Lacey asked.

"No, thank you," Ginny whispered. "Good night."

"It's only half-seven," Lacey protested.

Ginny didn't answer, but stared up at the canopy of the bed. After a few moments, she heard Lacey leave the dorm. The sensible part of Ginny's brain that was, somehow, still functioning, begged the gods above that Lacey hadn't gone for Hermione or Parvati.

She didn't know how long she lay staring at the canopy. She heard the sounds of her dorm mates moving around, getting ready for bed. Their conversation, so normal and pleasant, calmed her racing heart and gave her something else to think about. She heard Lacey telling the others that Ginny wasn't well and, to Ginny's surprise, added, "I'm worried. She's usually so snappy, but now ..."

"Should we get Hermione?" Rosie asked. Ginny almost smiled as she heard the sixth year chewing her lip.

"No, I don't reckon she wants the third degree right now," Lacey said, and Ginny heard them chuckle. "Let's just let her sleep."

Ginny made a mental note to thank them profusely if she ever got out of bed again. She lay still for hours, listening to the silence, broken by the occasional exclamation or mutter from Rosie. She refused to think – she simply swam in a semi-conscious blackness.

Sometime in the depths of early morning, her oversensitive hearing picked something up. At first, it sounded like a gentle slapping. It got louder and seemed to multiply. The door to Ginny's room opened and she sat bolt upright, heart pounding.

"Ginny!" a voice hissed.

Ginny peered through the hangings. She almost groaned in relief. "Parvati!" she whispered, waving her friend over. "You're out of hospital! What are you – "

"Come down to the common room, quick!"

Something in the seventh year's voice made the hairs on the back of Ginny's neck prickle. Without a word, she slid from her four-poster.

"Get your wand." Parvati, Ginny noticed then, was gripping her own.

Ginny grabbed her wand from her bedside table and followed Parvati down the stairs. Even before they reached it, Ginny could hear the sound of voices from the common room. She realized someone was crying.

"What's going on?" she demanded as they entered the common room.

"Death Eaters," Lavender Brown said.

Ginny froze.

"What?" she breathed.

Parvati moved to stand beside Lavender, putting an arm around her shoulders. Lavender's eyes were blurred with tears. "Death Eaters," she repeated. "They're in the castle. I don't know where everyone is, but – "

Ginny's hand dove into her pocket and she pulled out her DA coin. Lavender and a few others already held theirs. They were talking into the coins in low voices.

"Gin, could you just get the two Slytherins?" Dean called, his own coin to his ear.

"Lav, are you okay?" Parvati rubbed her back and Lavender leaned into her friend's side. Ginny couldn't remember seeing the seventh years speak in months, but now Parvati was close to Lavender, studying her tear-stained face.

"Fine. I'm fine. I'm part of the DA, too, remember?" She was completely unconvincing. Parvati threw her arms around her friend and Lavender broke down again.

Touching though the reunion was, Ginny focused on her coin, thankful the Slytherins were girls. Alerting the boys was all very well, but they didn't have access to girls' dorms. The girls had the ability to alert their entire house because they had mobility in every part of the house. She was deeply grateful as she alerted Pansy and Millicent that she had access to the Slytherins this time. She felt ashamed when she realized her first thought hadn't been her brother, but Draco.

"Ginny, where's Neville?" Dean was beside her and the ghost of Draco smirking at her dissolved.

"Here! I'm right here." Neville appeared in cuddly pajamas that almost made Ginny smile. The look on his face sobered her immediately. "Okay, let's get organized."

"We've alerted the other houses," Dean told him.

"We're not sure where the Death Eaters are," Parvati said as she and Lavender joined them. Parvati's arm was still around her friend's shoulders.

"We'll have to go out in groups from our houses and meet somewhere in the middle." Neville tucked his wand into his pocket. "I've spoken to Terry Boot and Susan Bones. They're assembling their members of the DA in their common rooms and making sure everyone else stays put."

"And Parkinson and Bulstrode are coming, too," Ginny added.

"Wait." Seamus looked around. "Where's Harry?"

"And Ron," Lavender added.

"I haven't seen Hermione since Quidditch," Natalie put in.

"They can't still be in the library," Parvati said. "I left them in there hours ago."

The Gryffindors glanced around at each other.

"Did any of them still have a coin that you know of?" Neville asked slowly.

"No," Ginny whispered, a knife seeming to twist in her chest. She took a deep breath. "Teachers – the teachers have to know."

"We need to get organized," Dean repeated Neville's words. "Nev, what's the plan?"

"We need to make sure the professors know," Neville agreed, squeezing Ginny's arm. He glanced around. "Gin, Dean, Natalie – you lot know where most of the professors' officers are, right? Go find as many as you can or at least alert the ones who might be on patrol." He paused. "I expect Professor Dumbledore knows already, but it'll be job getting all the others mobilized."

"Would Hermione be on patrol tonight?" Lavender sniffed, her spine straightening. "She's a prefect."

"Some of us will go to other houses and a few people can focus on finding prefects." Neville took a deep breath. "We need to get back together as soon as possible – we're worthless split up. Meet in the entrance hall in ten minutes. If that's been compromised, the Great Hall will do."

"Right." Ginny paused. "Lavender, how did you find out there are Death Eaters in the castle?"

Everyone looked at the seventh year. She swallowed. "I went out to meet someone. I passed the old practice room and was wishing I could see the door. The door appeared and I heard voices behind it. They were talking about 'taking the castle.'"

"We don't have much time," Neville cut in. "Everyone check you've got a wand. Let's move."

_TBC_


	16. The Rebels

**A/N: **I'm only posting this chapter now because I'm sick of it. I apologize if that's at all obvious. I can't do anything else with it so it's ... well, hopefully you all enjoy it. It was a complete bitch. Maybe I'm still culturally shocked from my landing in Asia four weeks ago. I don't know. I'll take better care with the next chapter, I swear to you all.

Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.R.'s. Sincerest thanks to the Goddess of pro-fic for a world in which I can gaily romp until I'm ready to create my own.

**)BW(**

Ginny split from the others only when they reached the third floor and were relatively sure they weren't near the heart of Death Eater activity. She was headed for one of the back passages where she knew the Fat Friar and Grey Lady sometimes spent their time when she ran into Pansy.

"Our people are coming, too," Pansy panted when she drew level. "We shouldn't wander around alone, Weasley."

"No, we shouldn't," Ginny agreed, her wand clutched in her hand.

"Ginny! Parkinson!"

Ginny and Pansy whirled. "Hermione!" Ginny breathed, gazing at her friend. Hermione was in jogging bums and trainers, her hair pulled away from her face. She wore a rucksack.

"Ginny, it's time," Hermione said. She was pale and out of breath.

"Time?" Pansy demanded, staring at Hermione. "Time for what?"

"Time for Harry and Ron and I to ..." She trailed off. "We've got the research, we've got what Dumbledore told Harry. We have to go tonight."

"Go?" Pansy repeated. "No, no, no. You can't go. We've got Quidditch and – and there are Death Eaters in the castle, Granger!"

Ginny knew, suddenly. She knew what Hermione meant. She thought about all the excuses she'd made for Hermione at Quidditch practice. She remembered how Draco had finally stopped asking for them. "They have to go," Ginny repeated Hermione's words. She bit her lip as it trembled. She put her arms around Hermione and hugged her fiercely. "Good luck, Mione! We'll be waiting for you to get back."

"Good luck to you, too! I expect the DA to be up and running when I get back – don't ask, I know everything." Hermione gave her a painful squeeze before letting go. She reached out and gripped Pansy's arm. "Make sure the Chasers keep up drills properly. You're the best the team has." She smiled ruefully. "Even when I'm on the team with you." Pansy's mouth dropped open, but Hermione's eyes were sincere and at last, the Slytherin smiled. A real smile.

"Sorry I hexed your teeth fourth year," she said.

"Sorry I called you a cow a hundred times," Hermione retorted.

"I was a bit of a cow," Pansy said.

"I had huge teeth," Hermione said.

"_Girls_," Ginny sighed, nudging Hermione. In the excitement of the moment, she barely remembered she wasn't on the Quidditch team anymore. She made a silent promise to help fulfill Hermione's wishes, if they were in her power to grant. She could help Neville make the DA powerful again. And she could help make the Quidditch team the best Hogwarts had ever seen. She could see the tactics in her mind; she could imagine their chances against Gryffindor without Harry.

She had a sudden panic. "My brother! Hermione, is Ron still here? Can I see him?"

"He and Harry are – " Hermione began but then Harry and Ron came pounding around the corner.

"The Order's here!" Harry panted as he drew level. "But the Death Eaters brought Greyback."

Ginny felt the blood drain from her face. "They brought _Fenrir Greyback_ into the school?"

"Who ever accused You-Know-Who of being a decent bloke who would leave school children alone during a campaign of world domination?" Ron said, shrugging.

"We've got to stop him," Pansy said faintly. "He preys on kids especially and ... Weasley – _Ginny-shaped_ Weasley – let's go."

"Pans, wait." Harry caught her arm.

"Don't get killed, Potter, I couldn't stand it," Pansy said in a rush. She rounded on Hermione. "You take care of him."

"Always do," Hermione promised, smiling at Harry.

"You watch yourself, too." Harry smiled, his eyes bright in the moonlight coming through the windows. He gripped Pansy's arm. "Take care."

"Potter – " Pansy bit her lip. Then she threw her arms around him. "Please – please don't – "

"I'll try to be back soon," he said into her hair.

"That a promise?" Then she kissed him. Ginny and Hermione took smart steps backwards.

"Ginny, be safe." Ron maneuvered his way around Pansy and Harry, not looking surprised about them at all. Ginny was relieved, as he was prone to pitch fits. He grabbed her in a hug and Ginny clung to him. "I know I can't ask you not to fight," he added, surprising her again, "but please – I couldn't live with it if you were – if something happened." He glared at her. "Promise me, if you're thinking of doing something stupid or _suicidal_ – be careful."

"You, too, big brother." She tried to take in everything about him – to internalize his smell, his arms, the exact color of his hair. She giggled, a sound damp with unshed tears. "Not one of our brothers could replace you. _Please_ come back, Ron."

"Be back soon," he assured her, trying to smile as be pulled away.

"Go now," she ordered as Pansy pulled away from Harry and stood back, shoulder-to-shoulder with Ginny. "Quick, it's only a matter of time before someone else stumbles into this corridor."

"Granger!"

"Oh, hell," Hermione said succinctly, rubbing her forehead with the heel of her hand.

"Granger, where the hell do you think you're going?" Blaise demanded, skidding to a halt and ignoring everyone else. His eyes were glittering angrily and he was breathing heavily through his nose.

"Are you stalking me, Zabini?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. "Not that it's any of your business where I'm going."

"Course it is, you're my girlfriend!" Blaise shouted, throwing his arms up. "Honestly, Hermione, how would _you _feel in my place?"

"He's your _what_?" Ron demanded, rounding on Hermione.

Maybe they were in for a fit pitching after all, Ginny thought.

"Quiet, Ron. Shut up, Zabini, no I'm not!" Hermione's own voice was rising alarmingly. For someone who wasn't Blaise's girlfriend, she was comically red.

"Come this way, everyone," Pansy murmured, pulling Harry and Ron along by the shirtsleeves. Ginny followed gratefully, helping Pansy sheppard Ron, who moved with some reluctance. At a discreet distance, they all stopped, forced Ron to turn away, and tried to pretend they weren't listening to everything.

"When did I say I was your girlfriend?" Hermione raged. "You can't just spring things like this on my best friends! Especially Ron – I have to break these things to him gently."

"Hey!" Ron said, effectively ruining the illusion that no one was listening in. Pansy elbowed him.

"Why? Shouldn't your friends know when you start dating someone?" Blaise said. He no longer sounded angry, but like he was reasoning with the very stubborn. "Be reasonable, Hermione, you had to tell them some time."

"But I'm _not_ your girlfriend!" Hermione shrieked.

"Oh, really?" Ginny could hear the smirk in Blaise's smooth voice. "We study together."

"Because you won't sit at your own damned table!" Hermione began.

"We've been on two dates."

"_When_? Where was I when these alleged dates took place?"

"Try to keep up, Hermione." Blaise laid the patience on with a trowel. "The first was the team visit to Hogsmeade. You spent the entire evening with me."

"I was _drunk_ – your fault, by the way!"

Ginny peeked over her shoulder. Blaise smiled, a curl of his lips that made Ginny's knees a bit weak. "We cuddled."

Hermione's face was well into maroon. "We did not!"

"You were drunk, of course you'd pretend not to remember."

"I remember there was no cuddling."

"You said I had lovely teeth." Blaise held up his fingers, ticking one off. "That was the first date. The second date was that walk round the lake."

"That was not a date!" Hermione was starting to sound desperate. "I was walking and you wouldn't leave."

"After the first five times, you stopped asking me to," he pointed out.

"Um," Harry called over his shoulder. "Hermione, we need to go now. Please just admit you're his girlfriend so we can be off."

"I'm not!" Hermione wailed.

"You are," everyone but Ron told her.

"You are?" Ron said incredulously. Ginny was profoundly grateful he didn't seem territorial so much as terribly confused.

"But ... but I don't understand," Hermione murmured, her arms falling to her sides and her shoulders slumping. "When did this happen?"

"Like most things that were meant to be, it happened naturally," Blaise told her, taking her hands. She didn't pull away. "Now – please tell me where you're going."

"I can't," she sighed, defeated.

"Is it going to be dangerous?" he asked, the calm in his voice now very forced.

"Rather," she admitted.

"Is there a chance you won't come back?"

"Yes."

"If I asked you not to go, would you stay here?"

"Course not." Hermione drew herself up. "Harry needs me."

Ginny noticed Pansy gripping Harry's hand.

Blaise's shoulders slumped. He pressed his forehead against Hermione's. "Would begging and offering sexual favors make you stay?"

Hermione couldn't possibly blush any more, but Ginny suspected she was trying. "Of course not. I'm still not convinced we're dating."

"Don't worry, I'll convince you." Blaise's lip twitched. "All then, you won't stay. Can I kiss you?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I think you'd better."

Blaise tilted his head forward, his hands brushing the sides of her face. Ginny turned quickly away, fighting a blush of her own. Ron and Harry joined her, both coughing discreetly to cover the sounds coming from behind them. Pansy, who had turned around on the pretense of helping to assure Hermione she was going out with Blaise, stayed where she was and stared unabashedly at them. After an uncomfortably long few minutes, she rolled her eyes.

"Enough already, Blaise! They need to go, we need to go save the school. Get off Granger."

Ginny risked a glance and it was like the beginning of the kiss, Blaise cradling Hermione's face in his hands.

"You are not to get hurt, do you hear me?" he demanded.

"No promises," she whispered. "Same to you."

"Deal." He stepped away. "Take you to Hogsmeade when you get back?"

Hermione hesitated.

"Go on," Harry said, nudging her as he drew level. "We all know you're dating – known for a while, actually, where have you been?"

"I don't know," Hermione said faintly. "Fine, I'll go to Hogsmeade."

"And now, we're leaving." Ron gripped Hermione's arm and Harry's shoulder. "Preferably before you two are married," he added, scowling at Zabini.

"Don't start the Viktor thing over again," Hermione hissed at him.

"Oh, who gives a toss about Vickie?" Ron retorted.

"Viktor Krum?" Blaise demanded. "You keep him away from her, Weasley."

"To right I will," Ron agreed.

"Oh, for goodness sake!" Hermione wrenched her arm away from Ron.

"Is the wizarding world doomed?" Pansy muttered to Ginny.

"I wouldn't place my bets this early on," Ginny advised. "Let's just hope they don't bump into Krum along the way."

Hermione glanced back at Pansy and Ginny. "Bye."

"Love you, Gin!" Ron winked at her.

"Love you, too. Git. Don't get killed or Mum will never forgive me not trying to stop you going." She tried to smile. "Same goes for you two."

"Yeah, we know." Harry threw a last look at Pansy over his shoulder before crossing to the statue of the one-eyed witch. "_Dissendium_."

The trio disappeared into the tunnel to Hogsmeade, leaving Pansy, Blaise, and Ginny staring after them.

"That it, then." Ginny took a shaky breath.

"And the battle begins." Pansy eyes were fierce and full of fear. "Come on. Let's go find Greyback."

"The werewolf?" Blaise asked, falling into step with them. "Bastard tried to kill Draco last summer." His eyes narrowed to slits and Ginny wanted to move away from him. He made this impossible by gripping Ginny's wrist in one hand and Pansy's in the other. "Come on. Let's skin a bitch."

**)BW(**

Pansy and Millicent woke Draco – Blaise was already out finding people from the other houses. Pansy had gabbled on about something called the DA and some magical fake Galleons – Draco thought it sounded familiar, something from fifth year – but he was too preoccupied with wondering who the hell had let Death Eaters into the castle to worry about anything else. He pulled on a jumper and Muggle jeans he'd acquired on their last trip to Hogsmeade. Strangely, he had the urge to brush his teeth, but writing that off as sleep deprivation, he pushed his feet into boots and left the dorm.

When he had arrived in the common room, most of the first- through fourth-year Slytherins were milling about.

"We heard Death Eaters were in the castle, Draco," Daniel Jones said. "What do we do?"

"You lot stay here," he ordered, pleased that despite his recent unpopularity with the upper classes in Slytherin, the younger students still looked to him. "Stay in the common room and have your wands ready. If any Death Eaters come through that door, you hide behind the furniture and fire every hex you know."

Celine Black was crying, tears dropping off her chin. Draco knelt at eye level and gave her a fierce look.

"Remember that Jelly-Leg curse you cast on Dennis Creevey?" he said. "People talked about it for months. Just pretend the Death Eaters those sodding Gryffindors." He glanced around. They were scared, but they nodded. "Only," he added quickly, "if Gryffindors do actually come through, don't hex them. It's likely they're on your side and you'll want their stupid heroic bravery in a fight."

They all nodded eagerly. Some even cracked weak smiles.

"What if – what if our parents come through?" Orion Macnair wanted to know.

"It's your choice," Draco said honestly. In less of a pinch, he might have pointed out that these so-called parents were out hurting their classmates. "If you go with your parents instead of fighting, you might be safe." He paused. "If you stay here, it's more likely Professor Snape and Dumbledore can protect you." He took a deep breath. "I've thrown my lot in with Hogwarts. I suggest you all do the same." He tried to meet every eye in the room. "Either way, do _not_ leave this common room, do you hear me?"

They all nodded some more, eyes wide. Juliet Martin lifted her chin.

"Let's get organized," she said, addressing the room at large. "First years should stay near the steps to the dormitory. They can hide if they need to. The rest of us should be ready with our best curses. Maybe we should turn some of the furniture up to use as barriers."

Draco left them to it, patting Juliet's tense shoulder as he passed. He slipped through the door into the hall beyond, almost okay about leaving them there. He made a note to send some of the Order down straight away, to check the kids were okay. He made his way down the dungeon corridor to the staircase, his wand within easy reach and his eyes narrow against the gloom. He was shaking, but he fixed his mind on the fight above. He had almost reached the stairs when he felt a whisper of air near his elbow. He froze.

Bellatrix LeStrange gave a most unnatural smile. It looked like it hurt.

"My dear Draco," Aunt Bella said, stroking his face. Draco couldn't move – he was rooted to the floor. "I am very disappointed."

Draco didn't speak. He tried to remember a spell, any spell. He couldn't even remember where his wand was.

"Why haven't you joined the fight on our side?" his aunt went on, her silky voice hypnotic. "You could have requested the Mark any time and yet you're still here, _hiding_ at this atrocious school."

Draco still couldn't find his voice or his wand. A small part of him knew that even if he remembered where it was, going for it now would be suicide. He concentrated on slowing his breathing, on keeping himself on his feet. The numbing fog crawled into his mind, fear beyond fear. He had seen what this woman could do to people who displeased her and every instinct told him to run, to get away, the second she gave him an opening. If he ever chose to face her (he shuddered at the idea), it had to be on his terms, not hers.

Aunt Bella stepped right into his personal space and passed it, still running a hand along his jaw. "Your mother has been so worried about you, Draco. Why couldn't you think of your family?"

_When have they ever thought of _me? he wanted to ask, but couldn't.

"The Dark Lord is terribly displeased," she went on, pacing around him a like a hawk toying with its food. "He has not been pleasant to any of us."

_Your bad_, Draco's internal monologue went on. His throat tightened against the words.

"We've written you off, of course," Aunt Bella continued. "Told him we'd never presume to beg pardon for your thoughtless actions." She slapped him, the sound wringing down the passage. "How dare you call yourself a Black? A Malfoy?"

The slap awakened something in Draco. A wave of betrayal, followed by a wake of fury rushed up his throat, freeing it and his feet.

"And what have you lot ever given me?" he snarled, still not going for his wand (though at least he remembered where it was now). "Summer holidays with a house full of killers. _Werewolves_, for Merlin's sake! Jesus, I had to barricade my fucking room every night!"

"All sacrifices for the sake of the Dark Lord," Aunt Bella hissed in his ear.

Draco opened his mouth, but another voice filled the hall. "What, that decrepit monster who's only a half-blood? What's his real name again? Tom Riddle, is it?"

Aunt Bella actually shrieked as she whirled to face the speaker. Draco's heart sank to his toes.

"Ah, yes, I remember you," Aunt Bella said, her voice suddenly calm. She shifted back and forth like a predator about to spring, her eyes rolling madly.

"Yeah." Ginny Weasley gripped her wand. "I'll just bet you do."

"One of the hundreds of Weasel spawn," Bellatrix went on, the hypnotic quality from her voice echoed in the sway of her body. "I almost killed you once, girl. Don't you remember?"

"Oh, fourth year was so busy – I can barely remember my final exam results," Ginny retorted. Draco was amazed at her cheek, but reminded himself that she was a Gryffindor – brave to the point of mind-boggling stupidity. "There isn't a lot of room in my brain for blood traitors," she added.

Bellatrix hissed and shook. She couldn't seem to form words. Her fury was terrible.

"Weasley, shut up," Draco said out of the corner of his mouth. He couldn't bear the look on his aunt's face. She was going to kill Ginny and he thought his heart would explode.

"Why?" Ginny demanded, apparently beyond the point of all reason. "This _bitch_ has been terrorizing me and my family, Neville's family, for ages. Even if I don't say anything, she'll still try to kill me, so I might as well get a word in while I can."

Draco didn't respond because if Aunt Bella knew how important Ginny was to him – well, she knew how to use weakness.

"Who said _try_?" Bellatrix's voice laced around Draco, at the same time spitting like a snake. He had to do something, he had to _act_. Her voice constricted his arms, blurred his thoughts. He wished she would hit him again.

"Oh, what, you think I'm just going to roll over and die?" Ginny shouted. "What kind of Gryffindor do you take me for? And by the way, your brother-in-law tried to kill me once and failed. So did _Tom_. What makes you think you'll succeed?"

It was wordless magic and the only warning was the flick of Bellatrix's wrist. Draco saw it all in slow motion; the spell, red, shooting toward Ginny down the corridor. Ginny's bright eyes widening as her legs collapsed and she dropped to the ground. There was a soft thump as she landed on her stomach.

Then she was rolling away behind a suit of armor.

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!_" she bellowed, and a beautiful horse which seemed to fill the corridor charged straight for Draco and Bellatrix. As the white energy of the Patronus washed over him, Draco's mind unstuck and his feet pushed him across the corridor to join Ginny. He threw himself behind the suit of armor, even as Ginny shot a spell over his head.

"Pathetic children!" Bellatrix bellowed. She had taken shelter in a doorway not twenty meters off.

"So pathetic," Ginny muttered. She was panting. "Know any defensive spells, Malfoy?"

"A few," he said, rightfully indignant.

"Well, then," Ginny said, rising and casting another one. Bellatrix shrank back into the minimal protection of the doorway, deflecting the spell.

"I've never dueled a Death Eater before," Draco confessed, poking his wand around the corner and firing a hap-hazard jinx in his aunt's direction.

"I once dueled a bunch of them," Ginny told him, peeking round the corner and drawing sharply back to avoid a curse. "Mind you, I had five of my friends with me."

"Don't move."

Draco gaped. Bellatrix stood over them, inexplicably right there, her wand dancing between them. Draco's heart stood still. Ginny's eyes widened.

"Haven't you ever heard of wordless magic?" Bellatrix sneered, eyes dancing maliciously.

"Go on then." Ginny stood up slowly. "Kill us."

"Oh, no, my dear," the older woman said. "You're to learn some manners first, especially when you're speaking to your superiors. And I have some methods you may find persuasive. You must know from your dear friend Longbottom that my specialty is – "

"Cruciatus," Ginny finished, her voice just short of a tremble. "Nev did tell me, actually. I've met his parents."

"Why kill when there are fates worse than death?" Bellatrix sneered.

It happened in a heartbeat. One moment, Draco was pushing himself upright so that at least he take the curse with Ginny, hopefully lessening its potency. The next moment, Bellatrix was flung backward like a rag doll. Time seemed to slow again. Halfway through her impromptu launch backward, she raised her wand. Without thinking, Draco threw himself in front of Ginny and the Cruciatus curse caught him full in the chest. Every cell in his body screamed for a second that felt like a lifetime. The pain was gone almost at once but the after-affects bounced around his body like electricity. When his aunt slammed into the stone wall and collapsed to the floor in a heap, so did Draco.

**)BW(**

Ginny saw Draco fall in slow motion, his body crumpling gracelessly to the stone floor. She dropped beside him, shouting his name. He stayed motionless.

"Ginny!" a voice called down the corridor. She glanced up. Remus Lupin stood at the other end of the corridor, his wand still pointed at Bellatrix.

"Professor!" she said automatically. She glanced at Draco. She could feel the warmth of his skin, the beat of his pulse in his wrist. "Sir, he's been hurt."

Lupin hurried toward her, but passed them both. He stood right over Bellatrix and said calmly, "_Stupefy_." Her body lurched and was still. Satisfied, Lupin crossed to Ginny, kneeling beside her and feeling Draco's neck.

"She got him with Cruciatus," Ginny told him, her throat tight.

"He'll be all right," Lupin assured her. He clapped a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I know it's dangerous, but can you get him to the hospital wing? I need to be sure _she_," he gestured with a grimace over his shoulder, "is found by the Order and put back in Azkaban."

_She'll just escape again_, Ginny thought, a hollow ache in her stomach. _If Voldemort can get Death Eaters into Hogwarts, anything can happen_.

"I can get Draco to the hospital," she told Lupin with more confidence than she felt. She frowned. "How did you know to look here? This corridor is nowhere near the main part of the school."

"Your Patronus found me," Lupin explained. "I recognized it from the Department of Mysteries battle."

Ginny caught her breath. "My Patronus? But – I mean, how did it go so far? I just meant it to distract Bellatrix."

"Your intent was to seek aid, whether you were conscious of that or not," Lupin explained. Ginny suddenly longed for the days of second year when he was a proper professor. "It went to find someone you trusted." He smiled at her and despite the new lines and scars on his face, Ginny saw the young man he was. "I am honored it chose me, although I suspect I was merely the closest person you knew in the general area."

"I trust you with my life," Ginny said immediately. "And I wish you could be at Hogwarts all the time."

"Me, too." Lupin offered her a hand up. She accepted. "Perhaps after the war is over."

"You become a hero of the war, and no one will care if you're a werewolf," Ginny said with as much confidence as she could. "Dumbledore will always support you and I bet most of the staff would stand behind you."

"You're very kind, Ginny," he said, smile fading. "Let's take it a step at a time."

Ginny nodded, pointing her wand at Draco. "_Mobilicorpus._" His motionless body rose into the air.

"Take back corridors and be ready to send out your Patronus again," Lupin said, crossing to Bellatrix's body. He conjured Muggle hand cuffs, locked them around her wrists. He picked up her body and threw it over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Ginny was peripherally amazed at his strength.

"Let's go," Lupin said, his wand in front of him. They made their way back to the entrance hall without meeting anyone. When they parted, Lupin went straight to the Great Hall and Ginny began the long trek to the hospital wing. She didn't meet any resistance in the back passages she chose and when she arrived at the hospital, it was to find two Aurors outside.

"Injured," she said, holding up her wand hand as best she could as a sign of peace. The Aurors nodded and let her through.

Ginny waited long enough for a harried Madam Pomphrey to pronounce Draco's injuries treatable. Before the healers could find a reason to keep Ginny, the Gryffindor dashed back toward the fighting, hoping to be able to be useful.

**)BW(**

She did manage to find a Death Eater or two to curse, but the Aurors' and Order's arrivals had made quick work of the Death Eaters. They had indeed come through the Room of Requirement. Ginny and Neville led a group of DA members to it and Neville, who was something of a natural with the room, managed to get it into the form it had taken for the Death Eaters. They followed muddy footprints to an open cabinet, through which they could feel a gentle breeze. Five of them stood guard while Lavender, Neville, and Colin Creevey went off in search of a member of the Order to break the curse and destroy the cabinet.

When Nymphadora Tonks and Professor Lupin appeared, Ginny's battle-tense body began to relax. Lupin and Tonks talked quietly for a long moment – then they performed several delicate charms, told everyone to stand back, and the wardrobe exploded.

"The remaining Death Eaters are being taken into custody," Lupin said, dusting off his hands as he and Tonks led the way out of the room. "For the moment, anyway."

Ginny's heart skipped a bit. "What do you mean?"

Tonks and Lupin glanced at each other.

"Professor, what's happened?" Parvati demanded.

"The Order and the Aurors arrived at the same time," Tonks said at last. "Everything seemed to be all right, but some of the Aurors were behaving strangely. They weren't dueling properly – it was almost like they were doing dueling for show, not really fighting."

"What does it mean?" Ginny asked. She thought of the Aurors guarding the hospital wing and her stomach knotted. "Are some of them under Imperius?"

"It may be worse than that, actually," Lupin said. He paused at the door to the Room of Requirement and turned to face the DA. "Neville, you seem to have a way with this room."

"I – I suppose so," Neville said slowly.

"Keep this room in mind," Lupin said. "I don't know what's going on right now, but if this attack is a sign of a war campaign, Hogwarts may not be safe."

"But with Dumbledore here – " Parvati began.

"He may not always be," Lupin said firmly. "It is up to you to make sure you protect yourselves and the students of Hogwarts." He smiled sadly. "I hoped I would never say this to children, but in war, Voldemort won't care how old you are." Several people winced at the sound of the name, but no one argued. "You must be prepared to protect yourselves. Remember this room."

"We will."

They followed him out into the corridor. They didn't want to separate, so they all followed Lupin and Tonks to the Great Hall, where a meeting area had been arranged. Students from all four houses mingled there. Ginny felt her anxiety ease as Fred and George came tearing toward her through the crowd.

"Ginny!" They grabbed her and swung her around.

"Fred! George! Are you okay?"

"Oh, we're fine," Fred said.

"Just a bit singed," George added and Ginny laughed. Half his hair was gone, but so long as he wasn't bleeding ...

"Have you seen Ron?" Fred asked. "Everyone else is accounted for." All the family, then.

Ginny swallowed. "Ron's okay." She felt like she was lying. Her youngest brother was anything but, where he was going.

"Where is he?" Fred demanded.

"He's – he's not here." Ginny bit her lip. "He's with Harry and Hermione."

George stared at her. "You mean, they've – they've gone?"

Ginny knew she oughtn't be surprised. Everyone assumed Ron and Hermione would go where Harry went and Harry would always be gunning for Voldemort.

"They've gone," she repeated, trying to internalize the feeling. It was still alien.

"Damn." Fred stared at the ground.

"They have a plan and they have Hermione," Ginny murmured, more to herself than to them.

There was a scuffle near the door and suddenly, Lupin, Tonks, Neville, and a handful of others dove through the door.

"What's up?" Fred muttered.

"Go find out," George suggested. "I'll say here with the kiddies."

"We're coming, too." Ginny and Parvati positioned themselves on either side of Fred. Ginny hugged George. "Take care, big brother. We'll be back."

"Course you will." George ruffled her hair.

They followed the noise of running feet. Fred got ahead of them, his wand out. They burst through the front doors of Hogwarts castle and skipped down the front steps.

"What's going on?" Ginny wondered, watching a crowd gather fifty meters off at the base of a tower.

As they neared the edge of the crowd, they heard the whisper.

_Dead. Dead. Dead._

"Who?" Parvati demanded. "Who's dead?"

A Ravenclaw fifth year was crying as she glanced at them over her shoulder. "Dumbledore. It's Dumbledore."

_Dead_. Ginny's heart twisted. Parvarti gasped. "No. No, it's not possible."

Ginny couldn't say a word. She stared at her friend, the horror in Parvati's wide eyes reflecting her own.

"How?" Ginny whispered, staring at the crumpled body of the headmaster.

"Fell." Neville appeared beside them, shell-shocked. "Fell from the Astronomy Tower. No one saw who did it."

Parvati and Ginny launched themselves at him, burying their faces in his shoulders. Ginny hadn't realized she was crying until she felt the damp of Neville's pajama-clad shoulder. She couldn't take it in, though she supposed her subconscious could and that was why she was sobbing. She felt something trickle down her ear and realized that Neville must be crying as well. She couldn't feel him shaking like she and Parvati were, but she could hear his breath catch.

When Ginny was sure she had some measure of control again, she pulled back. Parvati was already gazing around the lawn, still tucked under Neville's arm. Ginny followed her gaze. People were milling about in twos and threes as staff tried to organize students. Professor Sprout had six of the younger students crowded around her, her arms wide for all. Professor Flitwick was collecting Ravenclaws and seating them on the steps of the castle, with strict orders to remain there. Professor McGonagall was conspicuously absent, as was Professor Snape. Ginny supposed they were inside. A few members of the Order were helping carry the injured back into the castle. Hagrid knelt over Dumbledore's body, sobbing freely. Charlie and Fred were shooing people toward the castle, though many craned their necks to stare at the wreck of body that had been the great Albus Dumbledore.

"Who did it?" Ginny whispered to Neville. "Who the hell _kills_ Dumbledore?"

"Someone really powerful," Neville murmured back. "No idea. Couldn't have been a student, I don't think."

"You think it was a Death Eater?" Parvati asked, her eyes wide.

"Who else could it have been?" Ginny countered, hoping neither of her friends had an answer.

"_Padma! Patrice_!_" _Parvati shrieked a moment later, diving away from them and tackling her twin and younger sister in bear hugs. Looking beyond them, Ginny saw several more familiar figures trooping down the steps. She broke away from Neville, who had just been joined by Dean and Luna (the latter using the former two as a shield against the rampaging Flitwick), and jogged to meet them.

"You lot okay?" she demanded, drawing level with the Slytherins.

"Best ever," Pansy assured her, leaning heavily on Blaise.

"Yeah, we got Dolohov caught," Blaise told Ginny, smiling weakly. "Git's in Azkaban for good, with any luck."

"He tried to jump Millie," Pansy told Ginny indignantly, indicating her friend, who didn't appear injured.

"Teach him to cop a feel. Bastard." Millicent clenched her fists. "And don't call me Millie, for god's sake, Pans."

Ginny was relieved to see them okay. She noticed them glancing around hopefully for a less obvious member of their group.

"He's inside," Ginny told them quietly. "Got knocked out during the fighting. His aunt Bellatrix almost got us."

"What happened?" Blaise growled, eyes narrow.

"Professor Lupin got Bellatrix before she put full Cruciatus on us," Ginny said quietly. She hadn't realized at the time how terrified she had been. _Fates worse than death ..._ Millicent gripped her shoulder.

"What's going on out here?" Pansy asked, glancing around the crowded lawn. "We saw people leaving the castle and ... "

"It's – it's Dumbledore," Ginny said slowly.

"What happened?" Blaise repeated, sounding a little breathless.

"Dead," Ginny whispered. She read horror in all their faces, but couldn't bear to think about it any longer. She couldn't stay there – she had to ... her heart leapt. Draco. "He was knocked from the Astronomy Tower," she said shortly. "No one seems to know what happened. I have to go."

And she was running, sprinting back up the steps and into the entrance hall.

**)BW(**

Draco's vision swam, causing a sickening churn in his stomach. He couldn't break through the haze that covered his eyes.

"Where – " he tried to say.

"Ah, he's coming round," a brisk voice said. "Mr. Malfoy, can you hear me?"

"'m not Mr. Malfoy," Draco muttered. "'s my dad." His mouth felt like it was full of cotton wool but it seemed an important distinction. With a great effort, he forced his eyes open. The familiar walls and smells of the hospital wing accosted him.

"What happened?" he asked weakly as Madam Pomphrey rustled around his bed, waving her wand.

"Miss Weasley brought you in," she said, studying a few numbers that appeared against the white blankets. "You got hit with a burst of Cruciatus."

Draco tried to remember, but his head throbbed. He remembered Aunt Bella, but beyond that ...

"Can he have visitors now?" came a tentative voice from somewhere beyond Draco's line of vision.

"Briefly, he's only just come round," the hospital matron said sternly. She stepped aside and Ginny Weasley appeared. She was dirty, but didn't appear to be injured.

"Weasley," he breathed, trying to sit up and failing, with a groan, against his pillows.

"Malfoy, don't!" she hissed, hurrying toward him and helping him settle back. He squeezed his eyes shut until his head stopped pounding. He panicked when he didn't immediately see Ginny, but relaxed again when she appeared in a chair beside his bed. He reached out a hand and she laced her fingers through his.

"You idiot," she began. "How could you jump in front of me like that?"

Draco didn't say anything as memories slowly returned, just focused her face. She looked exhausted, but there was something more. Her eyes were hollow and her face, usually tinted pink in the cheeks, was ghastly pale. There were tear tracks on both cheeks; they slanted away from her eyes.

Draco tugged at her hand, disgusted by how weak he felt. "Come here."

He immediately regretted the command when her face crumpled. "No, look, Weasley – "

She threw herself onto the bed beside him and sobbed.

_Nothing I'm not used to_, he mused. He sighed. When was the last time he'd seen her smile? He vaguely remembered many questions he had for her – how she knew his father, when she'd dueled Aunt Bella, how she knew so much about the Dark Lord's past. He let them go, filing them away for later. His arms felt terribly weak but he draped one around her, rolling painfully onto his side and resting his head near hers on the pillow. She pressed face into the pillow. "I'm sorry," her muffled voice said over and over. "It's just – it's Dumbledore – he – "

Draco thought he knew what she was about to say and tried to figure out why it wasn't more of a surprise to him. That many Death Eaters breaking into the castle – well, they weren't there to actually take the castle, so ...

"It's okay," he kept telling her, wishing wretchedly that it was and that she didn't always seem to be miserable. After a while, Ginny's breathing slowed. Her body relaxed. She turned her head to look at him, the mess of tears and dirt on her face rubbing off on his pillow. Draco felt a hum in his chest and slid his hand along her back.

"I should get off your bed before Madam Pomphrey has a nervy spaz," Ginny whispered. She looked sleepy and her hair was fluffy.

"You shouldn't have got on my bed in the first place," Draco murmured, trying to smooth her hair with his fingers. His arm felt very heavy.

"Oh, bite me, Mr. Superiority Complex," she retorted. She slid closer to him, resting her forehead against his.

"You aren't going to sleep, are you?" he demanded.

"Why, do you mind?" She yawned.

"Course I mind," he said, his hand against her cheek. "What happens to me if your brother finds us like this?"

The sleepiness dropped from Ginny's face.

"What?" he asked, wondering if he would be the cause of another cry. But Ginny only scowled.

"Stupid brother's gone off to get his Dark Lord killing on," she muttered. "He and Harry and Hermione left tonight."

Draco took this in slowly. "So we've lost a Chaser?"

Ginny gave a startled laugh. "That's one way of putting it." She closed her eyes, her whole face dropping with exhaustion. "Better anyway. With Dumbeldore gone ... " She swallowed. "Well, Hogwarts isn't safe anymore."

Draco thought of his Slytherins. Had one of them let the Death Eaters in? Where was Professor Snape? Hadn't Draco promised the Slytherins Snape and Dumbledore would protect them?

"I have to get back to the common room," he said, though he felt like a boulder. Maybe Ginny would roll him there ... "I left the younger students there."

He expected Ginny to protest, to tell him to rest. Instead, she said quietly, "You want me to take you now?"

**)BW(**

Getting passed Madam Pomphrey wasn't as hard as Ginny expected. She Disillusioned Draco and floated him behind her. Madam Pomphrey was busy with a flood of students being brought in. Ginny was worried about getting passed the Aurors at the entrance, but they were gone. Probably left to help with cleanup. She took the same route to the dungeons she had used to bring Draco up earlier. They didn't meet anyone and Ginny removed the Disillusionment charm. They were just approaching the Slytherin common room when a voice cried, "Draco!"

Pansy, Blaise, and Millicent were just behind them, also clearly headed for the common room.

"Can't you walk?" Blaise demanded as he approached. His face was tight, emotions reigned in close. Pansy was still leaning on him.

"I'm fine," Draco, who clearly wasn't fine, muttered. Ginny thought he looked comical, sulking whilst floating a meter off the ground.

"Oh, I'm sure." Blaise scowled at him. "Come on, let's make sure the other Slytherins are in working order. You don't mind floating him another few meters, do you, Weasley?"

Ginny took him as far as the entrance to the common room, allowing Blaise to take over the spell as the door opened.

"You can come in," Pansy said to Ginny after a glance at Draco's face.

"No, I think I'm probably needed elsewhere," Ginny said reluctantly. Of course she _wanted_ to come in, but her own people and the DA probably needed help cleaning up.

"I'll see you all later," she said, as a weird sense of reality kicked in. She could probably sleep for the next three days. She was exhausted.

"Count on it," Blaise said. "Anyone see what happened to Greyback?"

"The Order took him," Millicent said. "He didn't manage to kill anyone, I don't think. I saw a couple people Stun him and drag him off somewhere." She sneered. "Maybe they'll get a muzzle for him."

Ginny thought about what Lupin had said. _Dumbledore won't always be around_, he had said. Then she thought about someone muzzling Lupin and felt sick.

"See you all later," she murmured, turning away.

"Be careful on your way back, Weasley," Pansy called after her. "We've already lost one Chaser."

Ginny blinked. "Right. Not that I'm on the team at the moment."

"Bollocks," Pansy said calmly. "A good morning to you, Weasley."

Ginny grinned shakily. "Right. Take care of Dra – of the coach."

"Hey!" came an indignant voice. "Blaise, put me down a sec."

"You can't walk," Blaise protested.

"Bollocks," Draco said, borrowing Pansy's word. "Now, Zabini."

Blaise grumbled, but he lowered his wand and helped Draco settle on his feet. Draco gripped him for a moment, then pushed himself upright. Ginny hurried forward so Draco wouldn't have to walk too far. "Merlin, Malfoy, let them take care of you!"

"I'm fine," he insisted. He looked down. "Thanks, Weasley."

She smiled. "No problem." She leaned forward, pressing her cheek to his. "Next time we face a Death Eater, let's not argue so much."

"Agreed." He brushed her cheek with his lips. "Go find your people, Weasley. Be careful."

"Will do." She pulled away and stepped back.

Millicent and Pansy waved as the entrance to the Slytherin dormitory closed behind them.

Ginny made her way back toward the entrance hall. She knew who was in the Great Hall, so instead she headed to the Gryffindor common room. She took back corridors, wand drawn. She was just stepping into the sixth floor corridor from behind a tapestry when she paused. A faint sound came from the corridor ahead. Ginny froze, slowed her breathing, and listening carefully. She heard the whimper again and her breath left her in a rush. She crept along the deserted corridor, her lungs tight with held breath. She held it for a moment, pausing to listen. She couldn't hear anything apart from the whimpering of whomever was in the room ahead.

Ginny neared the door, wand out and hand trembling, afraid of what she might find. The door was slightly ajar, open just enough for Ginny to fit through. She took a last look around before squeezing through the gap and standing, wand held high, in the empty classroom. She blinked, trying to see through the gloom. Weak light shown through the window at the back of the classroom and Ginny began to recognize the outlines of desks and chairs. She couldn't see anyone, but she could hear breathing. Her heart leapt into her mouth.

"Hello?" she whispered. She dared not light her wand – the last thing she needed was to be an easy target.

"Who's that?" said a voice, shaking so violently that Ginny almost couldn't understand.

"Ginny Weasley," she hazarded. "Who's that?"

"Ginny?" The voice was weak as well as shaking. Ginny took several steps forward.

"Yeah." Ginny looked carefully around, but she couldn't seem to find the source of the voice. "Where are you?"

"Get out of here, Gin." Ginny recognized the voice but couldn't place it.

"No, I want to help. Look, the attack's over, the Death Eaters were taken away. It's all right."

"No." The voice solidified frighteningly, a hollow sound. "It's not all right. Nothing is all right. You're in danger, Ginny, _please_ go!"

"No, I won't, I – "

"She'll kill you, Gin!" the voice said desperately. "You have to get out of here."

"I'm taking you with me," Ginny insisted, still working her way carefully toward the voice.

"You can't – there's a spell around me. _Please_, Ginny, _go_!" the voice pleaded.

"Tell me who you are," Ginny said. "Then," she added with difficulty. "I'll go."

"Go stand by the door," the voice ordered. It steadied as Ginny backed away. "Promise me, _swear_ you'll run as soon as you hear my name."

"I – I swear." Ginny made a note to herself of where the room was. She would come back. She would get help and come back.

The voice took a deep breath. "It's Jools, Ginny. Jools Boot."

Ginny's heart almost stopped. Before she could think, she ran.

**)BW(**

"What? _Jools_?"

The DA sat in a half-circle on the floor of the Room of Requirement, the evening of the day after the Death Eater attack. Neville had insisted they needed to regroup and begin planning for a future without Dumbledore. Ginny also thought they should be prepared for the future of Hogwarts and the Ministry. If Voldemort was ever going to make a push, it would happen soon with "the only man he ever feared" out of the way.

Their numbers had swelled with the admission of Draco and Blaise, Jessica Bentley, and several Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Ginny felt a fierce pride in this group – they knew better than to wait for everything to resolve itself. It was time for action.

Before they discussed anything else, however, Ginny was adamant they try to figure out her strange encounter with on the sixth floor.

"I knew her voice and I'm sure it was really her," Ginny assured the group. "I mean, it wasn't like I walked into a trap. I got away clean, but when I brought two of my brothers back with me to check it out, she wasn't there. My brother Charlie said there was evidence of a residual binding curse of some kind, so Jools could have been held there."

"But then we saw her in the Great Hall fifteen minutes after you got back with your brothers," Hannah Abbot protested. "And, apart from being awful to everyone, she was fine. Said she had a struggle with one of the Death Eaters, that's all."

"So who did I talk to on the sixth floor?" Ginny demanded. "Look, something's not right – "

"We know, Gin." Neville rubbed his forehead. "We can get some of our people down there to have another look round first thing. For now, though, how the hell did those Death Eaters get through that cabinet?"

"I had an idea about that," Draco spoke up. Upon initial entry into the DA, he'd been disgusted to find Neville its leader. Mercifully, Pansy had said something to him that had shut him up and apart from the occasional sneer, which Neville basely ignored, he'd kept his thoughts about the Gryffindor to himself. "Don't take this the wrong way, Longbottom, but I've spent a lot of the last five years in Knockturn Alley."

It was to Neville's credit that he didn't say, "That doesn't surprise me at all." It was to everyone else's credit that they followed his example.

"That cabinet you described reminded me of one I saw in Borgen and Burke's. They're famous for their collection of dark objects. They have a Hand of Glory, Draught of Living Death, and three or four artifacts from Grindelwald's day. And they've had this strange oriental cabinet for years. I've seen it several times and it seems to me they wouldn't let it collect dust in their shop unless it was really valuable."

"So it's like a gateway," Dean said thoughtfully. "You walk into one cabinet and come out the other?"

"Sure." Draco shrugged. "My guess is that theirs is the one the Death Eaters used because it's something my – well, my family would know about it. And I doubt it's magic that can be easily replicated."

"The one on this end's been destroyed," Neville said. "Any chance of them trying the same trick again?"

"That's not realistic, Longbottom." Unlike Draco, Blaise didn't have a past with Neville, so he was perfectly willing to be polite. "The teachers are looking into it now. I expect the Aurors did before they left, too."

"Has anyone heard what the Death Eater's motives might have been?" Colin Creevey said. He had a pad of paper perched on his knee.

"I expect it was a diversion to get rid of Dumbledore." Neville took a deep breath. "Everyone was so busy dealing with all the Death Eaters who'd come swarming in they didn't notice a few Death Eaters scoot off."

"Except this is _Dumbledore_," Ginny pointed out. It was even harder to say Dumbledore's name now than Voldemort's, but she was determined. "Voldemort himself was afraid of him. I can't imagine Dumbledore being caught off-guard in the Astronomy Tower, of all places."

"One of the Order said they saw the Dark Mark over the Astronomy Tower," Jessica hazarded, her face pale. "Was it a trapped, do you think? Could – could You-Know-Who have been there?"

"Doubt it." Blaise shook his head. "The Dark Lord's not going to come back to Hogwarts unless he thinks it gives him some kind of advantage. He wouldn't come while Dumbledore was still headmaster, would he?"

Ginny shivered. Her brother – and Harry and Hermione – were off trying to find Voldemort now. Willingly seeking him out – she couldn't even imagine. She shared a look with Pansy, who was obviously thinking the same thing.

"Look, I think we've speculated enough tonight," Neville said. "We don't know most of these answers, but there are ways of finding out. We all have connections to people who might know more about what's going on with the war now than we do. Ask your parents, friends who've left school. The _Daily Prophet_ isn't very reliable, but occasionally there's something in there worth knowing. Anyone who wants to share my subscription is welcome. We'll meet here again in a week's time, sooner if something important crops up, and see what everyone has to say." He paused, his troubled gaze sweeping the circle. "I'm sure there will be plenty to talk about then."

**)BW(**

Draco hated to admit how prophetic Longbottom's parting words had been. He chose instead to blame Longbottom for tempting fate.

Plenty had happened since the DA's meeting, including the funeral and memorial service for Dumbledore. Draco sat with everyone else, staring around at the tear-stained faces, including Ginny's. He wished he understood their tears. He didn't feel any affection for the old man, apart for some lingering gratitude for his support of the Quidditch team. Draco had no idea what the new headmaster would have to say about something so unnecessary. The interim headmistress, Professor McGonagall, had said in her address to the school that she had no intention of changing any of Dumbledore's standing rules or regulations. He had been a big supporter of extracurricular activities and clubs – she did not intend to change his word on the matter.

After the funeral, Draco jumped her in the entrance hall and made absolutely sure that she also meant the Quidditch team.

"Did I say every extracurricular club _except_ Draco Malfoy's Quidditch project?" she demanded. "Those girls are an example to all of us in dark times. I want to hear you're training them hard. There's another match in the near future."

Draco could have kissed her, but didn't because she was old, a Gryffindor, and he didn't want to lose every house point Slytherin had.

The first practice after Dumbledore's funeral made Draco wonder if he was really grateful to McGonagall. True to her word, Ginny didn't return to practice. Without Granger, whose disappearance was the source of constant speculation and distraction on the team, two of their best players were gone and spirits were low. No one seemed liked to mediate a group discussion, not even the endlessly patient Captain Bones. Perhaps she sensed the divide was beyond mediation for the time being, with fear and confusion running hot outside the pitch. On top of the polarization continuing to build – girls who were furious with Jools and girls who thought she was hurting and it was better for Ginny to be off the team – practice became an exercise in patience Draco had never had to begin with.

"Why the hell are we still bothering?" Pansy snarled. "Best players gone, captain an absolute bitch – "

"Stuff it, Parkinson," Adrienne Abbot said as she pushed passed. Blaise grabbed Pansy to keep her jumping the Ravenclaw.

"Yeah, one bad attitude's enough, isn't it?" Natalie added in an undertone, hurrying to catch up with Abbot.

"Who'd have ever thought we'd see the day," Blaise murmured to Draco (releasing Pansy only when he thought she wouldn't go for her wand), "that Pansy Parkinson would praise Hermione Granger?"

"I wish that day hadn't come with such a high praise," Draco retorted.

"Hey, they'll pull through," Blaise said, gripping his shoulder. "And Ginny's not going to forget how to play just for a few missed practices. Anyway, she's practically running the DA at the moment. Until that becomes routine, I suspect she'll have her hands full anyway."

Draco and the rest of the DA had given up for the moment on the Jools'-in-the-classroom mystery. They had searched the classroom, and several people had tried to talk to Jools about it. She repeated the same story, slightly angrier every time. She said she hadn't spoken to Ginny, so whoever did had been posing as her for some reason. "Maybe whoever let the Death Eaters in was toying with Weasley," Jools added when Blaise asked her. She had sneered. "She's so common she'd believe whatever she heard."

Ginny was so furious she cried and refused to believe she had been mistaken. She never railed against Jools directly, but she swore she would find the bastard who had been behind the whole thing.

As if that weren't enough, N.E.W.T.s felt like they were days away, instead of months. Every seventh year in the castle was panicked. Draco tried to remember if the graduating class before his had looked as bad as he and his classmates did. He supposed they must have, though he hadn't noticed at the time. Then again, that graduating class didn't have quite the level of fear and terror hanging over them that Draco and his class had. There had been no Death Eaters in the castle Draco's sixth year.

Studying with Blaise, something Draco usually enjoyed, became increasingly unpleasant as well. Studying reminded Blaise of Granger.

"She'd have loved this," he said, gesturing around the library at the crush of seventh years, fighting over books, copying titles, and trying to convince Madam Pince that they needed to check out fifteen books at a time. He smiled. "She'd have broken into the Restricted Section or slide tackled Terry Boot over there for his copy of _Arithmancy in Ancient Siberia_."

"I'll bet," Draco muttered, his mountain of Transfig notes beginning to blur. He was distracted by Ginny wandering in, pushing her way passed battling seventh years, and pulling one of the unusually numerous copies of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ off the shelf. She waved absently at the Slytherins as she passed.

"Look a bit smug there, won't you?" Millicent growled at her, eying the book with obvious envy.

"Some of us have all the fun, don't we?" Ginny said, glancing up as she approached their table. She smiled vaguely.

"Oh, have a laugh," Pansy grumbled. She was seated across from Draco with as many books and twice the notes in front of her. "Wait until next year. I'll owl you every day about how I'm having a lark on the Grand Tour."

"Eh, I'll worry about that when next year rolls around," Ginny said with a shrug. Madam Pince stamped the book and Ginny turned back to their table with a little smirk. "For now, though, I've a free period. Ta, darlings."

"Cheeky little bint," Blaise said, a note of admiration in his voice.

On top of everything else, Draco was beginning to worry about Slytherin's head of house. He wasn't the only one. Blaise, Millicent, and Pansy all noticed a change, though they didn't give it as much thought as Draco did. Snape grew thin and pale. He snapped at everyone now, even Slytherins. He was instructing them in healing potions – not strange, until Draco discovered that every class from third year up was studying the same thing. Normally, healing potions didn't turn up until sixth year and only for N.E.W.T. students. Now more than half the school were learning them.

And Draco still didn't know where his head of house had been during the Death Eater attack. No one had asked and Draco couldn't find the words. He had once tried to ask about the war after class.

"It's bad, isn't it, sir?" he began, hefting his rucksack.

"Of course it's bad," Snape snapped. Draco's eyebrows shot up.

"Especially bad since Dumbledore's death, _sir_," Draco gritted.

Snape didn't speak immediately. When he did speak, his voice was flat. "Do me, yourself, and your classmates a favor, Draco," he said at last, massaging his temples. "Learn these potions backward. Make sure your Quidditch team doesn't self-destruct. You need skills, strategies, and allies right now."

"Sir, what – "

"Do you understand me, Draco?" Snape said slowly, his eyes glittering. "It's not me you should come to anymore."

Draco had left, the air pressing out of his lungs in a terrible rush. What could Snape mean? He felt the cold terror he always felt at the thought of the Dark Lord, his family, and Aunt Bella. Dumbledore had been his ally and now he was gone. Snape had been his guide, his mentor, his protector, for the last six and a half years. Now he was pushing Draco away. Draco had told half his house to throw their lot in with Hogwarts. Now, that Hogwarts he had promised them was gone. Who else could he call on to help protect them, and himself?

"You have others," Blaise said simply. "Professor Snape's not young, Draco, and you know what line of work he's in. He can't carry us forever, that's what he means. Anyway, don't worry. We'll take care of the kiddies in Slytherin, just see if we don't."

"He can't carry us while there's a war on," Draco mumbled in agreement, but it wasn't enough. It only just described Snape's ashen face, his darting black eyes, his rumpled robes.

"Something's up," he said one night. He sat with Pansy and Blaise across from him and Millicent, a solid rock at his side. "Agree with me or not, I _know_ Professor Snape. Whatever it is, it's big."

"Big, like Potter and Granger and Weasley leaving?" Pansy asked, biting her lip. She froze, her eyes wide as she peered over Draco's shoulder.

"Is this the best Dumbledore could manage?" Ananda said quietly. Draco turned quickly in his seat. She stood just beyond the dark tunnel that was the passage to the Slytherin House entrance. "A vigilante group of four?"

"That's right – all he could manage," Blaise said, surprising everyone. "Old and infirm, you know. He couldn't think of anything better to do." He leaned forward, his voice bright and casual. "So tell me, Malfoy. Did you fire the Killing Curse when his back was turned or did you let one of the little Death Eaters do it for you?"

"What?" breathed Millicent, but Pansy cut her off.

"We've got a bet on," she temporized, running with Blaise's opening. "We don't think you've got the stones, you see." She glanced at Draco.

"Did my aunt do it?" he said, refusing the remember her mad rolling eyes and shaking wand hand. "Couldn't trust her little protege?"

"Oh, guess away." Ananda sneered at them. Draco didn't know her at all, and it made him terribly uneasy. "I know what I'm doing."

"Take care you do," Blaise said, examining his fingernails. "What a shame it would be for you if your dark lord fell."

"Where would Bellatrix LeStrange's madness take you then?" Draco said, his voice holding steady through the name. "A double cell in Azkaban, maybe?"

"Turn me in, then," Ananda said, crossing her arms. "There's four of you and one of me. I'm defenseless." Draco tried to find a sign of nervousness or fear, anything to suggest she might have a worry or doubt he could run with. He saw nothing – nothing he knew or recognized. Her face, apart from the sneer, was empty. So was her voice.

"You say that now, with Dumbledore gone," Pansy said. Her eyes narrowed. Draco guessed she couldn't find anything, either. And she had known Ananda as long as Draco had. Where was the girl they all knew?

"I do say that now he's gone," she said. "Don't cross me, any of you. I promise it will only hurt you later."

"Oh, is that a friendly warning?" Millicent demanded. "Thanks, we'll give it a think and get back to you."

"It's for your own good," she said, the sneer almost a smile. Draco felt a chill across his skin. If he'd had any doubts that a big change was in the air, they were gone now. "Run along now, little schemers. You'll get nowhere tonight."

She left the common room, the door snapping shut behind her.

"Good thinking about leaving the rest of the DA out, Blaise," Pansy said, exhaling a long breath.

"She'll find out about the DA," Draco muttered. "A blind fool would know who they are."

"They're smarter than you think," Blaise said. "It doesn't do anyone any good if the group is open knowledge. How do you protect people if you're having to watch your own back all the time? I know Potter was a big show kind of leader, but Longbottom's smarter. He knows to keep it to himself. And it's not just a bunch of Gryffindors." He grinned. "Ravenclaws and Slytherins can be quite clever when we put our minds to it."

"Yeah, well." Draco looked them all over. "Still think I'm wrong about something big?"

"I'll never doubt you again," Pansy intoned, pulling out her fake Galleon and pressing it. "Let's go."

They left the common room and split up, each drawing a coin from a pocket. Draco headed for the seventh floor, activating the coin. When he'd take the most circuitous route he knew, he doubled back. He passed the Gryffindor common room and felt whispers of air as the Disillusioned Gryffindors fell in behind him. By the time they reached the Room of Requirement, the Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins were there waiting.

"Were you followed?" Blaise asked.

"After that conversation with my cousin, I guess I probably was," Draco said, shrugging. "Didn't see anyone, but I had a feeling. Threw them off, though, I'm sure of it." He settled down beside Blaise and Ginny. His senses prickled – Ginny was close on his left and he could felt the warmth of her. It sent goose bumps up his arm.

"So – something big is coming," Pansy said. Immediate silence fell.

"How big?" Longbottom asked, leaning forward.

"Professor Snape's as good as warned me to keep away from him," Draco said. "Means trouble, I'm sure of it."

"What makes you say that?" Zacharias Smith said, shrugging. "He could just be sick of you hanging around."

"No, you see, there are students Snape actually likes, Smith, now shut up," Pansy snapped. "This is serious." She took a deep breath. "You all know some of us Slytherins have awkward family connections to sort right now," she began slowly. "Draco's is probably the worst. Snape's been looking out for him – now he's telling him to keep away, presumably still protecting him." She paused, then added carefully. "It's not just that. We've been hearing things – things we think mean trouble, in a big way."

"If Snape is worried," Blaise went on, "we should all be. He'll know what the Dark Lord and his followers are planning, and if he's not safe for us to be around, we're all in trouble."

"Is there any possibility," Longbottom said slowly, "that Snape's had a change of heart, so to speak? No, don't jump down my throat, you lot, we have to think of _everything._"

There were low murmurs from the others, but it was Ginny who spoke. "No, I'm sure he hasn't. Harry always said Dumbledore wouldn't hear a word against Snape. There was something in Snape that had Dumbledore – remember, most powerful wizard in the world – convinced without a doubt that Snape would never betray him."

"And Dumbledore died," Susie Bones pointed out softly. "I don't mean – it's just, who could have killed him? Only a really powerful wizard, if that, but they said even You-Know-Who feared him. Well, maybe Dumbledore miscalculated or something."

"Doubt who you want," Millicent said. "Point is, whether or not you believe in Snape and Dumbledore, something big is coming. We need to be ready."

They planned for events they couldn't predict. They anticipated contingencies they generated themselves. They discussed future meetings, and the necessity of keeping the existing DA a complete secret. They organized explorations of the school. According to several students, there was more than one passage out. Colin Creevey wrote everything down religiously and posted it on the wall.

In the last five minutes of the meeting, Longbottom gave them another moving speech about teamwork and secrecy, and Hannah Abbot noticed a small window in the room that no one had noticed before. There came a scratching from it and when Hannah opened it, a nondescript owl flew in and dropped a piece of parchment in Longbottom's lap. Then it collapse and had to be revived by the combined efforts of Jessica Bentley and Susie Bones.

When she saw the parchment, Ginny shrieked and crawled across the circle to look over Neville's shoulder.

"What is it?" Dennis Creevey demanded.

"Thank you, Harry!" Ginny whispered. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"Mind telling us mere mortals, Weasley?" Draco said irritably. She made a knowing face at him.

"Ooh, something you don't know, _coach_," she said, in a tone he remembered. He also remembered the accompany annoyance. Ginny pulled out her wand and tapped the map. "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."

"Oh!" Several of the Gryffindors gasped in obvious recognition.

"It's the Marauder's Map!" Seamus Finnegan crowed. "Way to go, Harry!"

"Oh, that will be useful," Luna Lovegood said, stroking a corner of the parchment. "Harry's so generous with his things."

Draco saw Pansy smile, her lip trembling. Because he cared about her feelings, he settled for glaring at her instead of calling her out.

"Marauder's Map?" Lisa Turpin asked.

"Map of the entire school and where every person in it is at all times," Ginny said, grinning.

Blaise whistled. "Keep it here. Can't risk someone else finding it. It's too valuable."

"There's a note," Longbottom added. "Hermione's handwriting, naturally." The Gryffindors laughed. "It says, 'Fight the good fight. We're doing what we can. We'll be back soon to help. Keep close, protect the younger students. Look out for more 'Expiring Munchers' soon. Believe us, they're on their way.'"

Everyone blinked. "Expiring Munchers?" Millicent said, her lip twitching.

"Death Eaters, of course," Padma Patil said, stifling a giggle.

"Munchers was Ron's idea," Ginny said, chuckling and trying to pass it off as a cough.

"Er – would anyone object to using that term in the future, as a code word, maybe?" Hannah Abbot said. "Or is it not serious enough?"

"Oh, let's have a little fun at evil's expense," Longbottom said. He tried to be serious. "So – Expiring Munchers coming this way ... we should get organized."

No one could speak for laughing. They never did finish the meeting that night.

_TBC_


	17. The Discovery

IMPORTANT: Draco getting a letter from Aunt Mila

**A/N: **Hey there! Oh, wow, was this chapter a doozy. I kind of wrote it in disjointed pieces, adding entire scenes when I thought the chapter was complete. I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get it up. Writing at the stage I'm at with this fic gets very very stressful because every detail I write has to be checked and triple checked against the groundwork I've been laying during earlier chapters. I've done a massive read-through and I think I'm prepared to go forward much more quickly than I did here. I apologize for the total lack of Quidditch in this chapter – it saddens me but it's necessary for plot purposes. BELIEVE ME, this is a Quidditch fic and it will end a Quidditch fic!! I think you will all be suitably impressed with the eventual finale. Ditto, D/G Hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.R.'s. Sincerest thanks to the Goddess of pro-fic for a world in which I can gaily romp until I'm ready to create my own.

**)BW(**

Ginny couldn't believe how much she missed Quidditch.

It was like a physical ache. Her fingers perpetually curled around an invisible broom handle. She saw a bowl of fruit on the Gryffindor table one evening and immediately thought of a Quaffle. She wasn't the only one. Even the house teams weren't seeing more than two days a week of practice, and the girls' team was barely getting _that_. Dean and several other Gryffindors had set up an orange hoop with droopy netting in the common room. When asked, Dean patiently explained that it was called a "basketball hoop" for a sport called "basketball." Ginny rolled her eyes and didn't ask, though she sometimes sat tossing the ball back and forth to Natalie or Parvati by the fire late at night when the common room was empty.

It was much worse than Ginny's previous expulsion from the team because at least back then she had been practicing with Blaise on a regular basis. Now she never saw the pitch, airtime, or even her gear, which remained locked away in her locker. At least she wasn't missing much – no one was getting much practice in these days. Curfews, bedtimes – it was like the Chamber of Secrets all over again. Not surprising, given that Professor McGonagall had been deputy headmistress during that crisis as well. Ginny sighed. At least in this case, the crisis wasn't _her_ responsibility, small comfort though it was. No giant snakes, no possessed diaries.

She cursed herself for not realizing how much worse it could be. She found out on a gloomy Sunday morning three weeks after Dumbledore's death. She should have known something was wrong when the Slytherins seemed especially pleased and the rest of the houses were grumbling like a rock slide in progress. By lunchtime, Ginny discovered what the commotion was about.

"I'm glad Harry isn't here to see this," Parvati was saying to Natalie and Lavender as Ginny took a seat across from them. "He'd off himself, I know it."

Ginny tried not to think of where Harry was, where her _brother_ was. She shuddered. She'd received letters from her parents, members of the Order, all demanding an explanation she couldn't give and wouldn't have given. They needed secrecy, she knew that. Hermione had been so tight-lipped, right up until leaving. Ginny's parents were furious, of course. Though Charlie and the twins were trying to help Ginny convince Mr. and Mrs. Weasley that she really had no idea where Ron was, or Harry or Hermione, her mother was too frantic to believe any of them. McGonagall had called Ginny and Neville into her office and attempted to find out what they knew, but as neither knew anything, she was forced to let them go after impressing upon them that they must bring any correspondence from the trio to McGonagall or the Order at once.

"What's up?" Ginny asked, trying to turn her thoughts from her mum and her own anxiety for her brother. The looks on her housemates' faces didn't bode at all well, but they did help her turn her attention back to the present.

Instead of replying, Parvati simply nodded at the staff table. Ginny turned to look and felt the blood drain from her face.

"What," she said slowly, her voice lower than she meant it to be, "the _hell_ is Snape doing in Dumbledore's chair?"

"Search me." Parvati bit viciously into her bacon. "He hasn't said anything or made an official announcement."

"He's probably really pleased with himself," Lavender said, scowling. They all looked at McGonagall, seated next to him. To Ginny's eyes, her head of house looked pale and drawn, and she didn't seem to be eating anything.

"Snape wanted to be DADA professor," Ginny pointed out, eyes narrow. "Headmaster must be beyond his wildest dreams."

"Yeah, but who made him headmaster?" Neville said heavily down beside Ginny. His face, she noticed, was white.

"Who chooses the headmaster normally?" Parvati muttered. "God, I wish Hermione were here now. I don't fancy the alternative."

The alternative being reading _Hogwarts: A History_.

"Malfoy's read it," Ginny mumbled.

"That's right, he has." Neville frowned. "Bet he's over the moon about Snape."

"So let's just ask him as a sort of casual thing." Parvati put on a sotto voice. "Hey, coach, quick question. I swear this is related to Quidditch. Don't curse me."

Ginny and Natalie snorted.

"Ginny should ask," Natalie proposed innocently.

Ginny turned red. She felt her throat tighten, all humor evaporating into the mist of the magical ceiling. "Thanks," she mumbled. "About – you know. Not hating me for – "

Parvati squeezed her hand across the table and Natalie put hers on top. Neville and Lavender looked confused. "We're a team," Parvati said. "We didn't even know anything was up until Jools bitched on you, so it wasn't like it was impacting the actual team. And hey," she added with a shrug. "Bloke's hot – got to give him some credit."

Ginny hiccuped a laugh.

"You have to come back to the team," Natalie added. "Parkinson's dying without you."

"The other Chasers are just as good," Ginny insisted, trying to convey in her tone just how much she believed it. "Your sister's incredible, Parvati. Far better at passing and catching than I am."

"Oh, sure, they're both fantastic." Parvati shrugged. "But Parkinson _likes_ you. You two are naturally compatible. Just like Nat and Bulstrode are naturally compatible, not that I'm offended, which I'm not." She nudged Natalie, who laughed.

"I did love to fly with Parkinson," Ginny admitted. "Even though I was a clumsy lunatic away from the goals, she really trusted me."

"And you should be up there with her," Natalie insisted. "Don't worry, we'll get you there."

"Pansy Parkinson _likes_ you?" Lavender said faintly.

"Someone fetch her smelling salts!" Parvati called urgently, and Neville snorted orange juice out his nose.

**)BW(**

When Draco saw Snape in the headmaster's chair, he felt an instinctive rush of pride. An instant later, Blaise's, "Oh, that's not good," brought him crashing back to the Earth in a rush of reality. If Snape was in the headmaster's chair, he would have been elected by the board of governors. The board of governors had no reason at all to elect Snape over McGonagall, his superior by ten or so years and current deputy headmistress_. _If Snape was in that chair, it meant some monumental change.

On top of that, Snape's pallor and sunken eyes were easily visible now. Sure, he was tired, but Draco felt sure that something much worse was afflicting his head of house. Perhaps it was the loss of Dumbledore, he thought doubtfully. He still hadn't worked up the courage to ask Snape where he'd been the night of attack on Hogwarts.

The night Dumbledore had been murdered.

"Have you been reading the _Daily Prophet _recently?" Pansy hissed in his ear, sliding her copy across the table.

"Honestly?" Draco shrugged, pulling the paper toward him. "Had other things on my mind."

"Not now you don't," Pansy said, indicating the headline.

_Severus Snape New Headmaster of Hogwarts _was the big news item. Surrounding it were subheadings like, _Board of Governors Proposes Inquiry into Dumbledore's Tenure _and _Potter on the Run: Fleeing the Country?_

"_Prophet_ jumped on that one fast," Blaise grumbled. "Snape can't have been headmaster for more than a few hours."

"Bastards!" Pansy snarled, ignoring Blaise. "Fleeing the country, my – "

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, who _doesn't _know you're shagging him?" Draco demanded in an undertone. "Try to control yourself, Pans, it's sick-making. Anyway, I don't want you killed if the school's being overrun with Death Eaters."

"_Again_," Jessica Bentley muttered. Blaise, sitting beside her, patted her shoulder.

"You think they'd bring Death Eaters in?" Millicent asked, chewing her fingernails. "I mean, you think the board of governors would actually allow Death Eaters to teach?"

"Professors only have to be _approved_ by the board. The headmaster nominates them. Snape's headmaster; he's obviously been put there for a reason and he obviously has loads of pull with the board," Draco explained absently, scanning the _Prophet _articles. They all cast doubt and disparity on Dumbledore and Potter, though the headlines were so outrageous that Draco wondered how the _Prophet _could think of printing them (honestly, why would bloody Hagrid's dog be an animagus? And why would Potter flee England in drag?).

"They won't do anything noticeable," Blaise said. Draco could just hear a tremble of rage behind it. In spite of his reassuring shoulder squeeze, Jessica was leaning cautiously away from him. Smart girl, Draco thought. No one except Draco had ever actually seen it (_really _seen it), but Blaise had a blinding temper. "They'll quietly slide around positions, make way for some new teachers. Maybe make a few teachers disappear."

"Death Eaters as teachers?" Millicent said again, staring at the staff table. "Merlin, it'll be a slaughterhouse."

They sat in silence for a moment. "We need _him_ here," Pansy said darkly, jabbing her fork at Potter's name. "He practically deals with this stuff for a living."

"Hermione has been with Potter and Weasley in the library for weeks now," Blaise said, his temper and voice dropping. "It's obvious they were getting ready to make a run for it and when Hogwarts was attacked, they knew they had a chance to get out without anyone noticing right away and sending out a search. Their letter said they'd be back and in that time – well, they kind of left Longbottom a job to do, didn't he?"

Bloody dream team – always leaving the dirty work to everyone else. Draco realized as soon as he thought it how unfair that was, but he tried to enjoy the old rivalry anyway.

He was just giving up when his pocket burned as though someone had dropped a hot ember into it. He reached in – his touch deactivated the fake Galleon, nestled there among several real ones. He glanced around – Blaise, Pansy, and Millicent looked back. So did Jessica. They watched a few Gryffindors trickle out. Jessica ducked out after them, claiming to want a word with Dennis Creevey (_shudder_, thought Draco). He and Blaise waited until the others had been gone several minutes before leaving with Millicent and Pansy.

"Almost makes me wish we could spend today fighting about Quidditch," Pansy grumbled as they slid through the door of the meeting room.

"Yeah, only I might commit murder if we had Quidditch today," Parvati Patil pointed out as she followed them in.

"Violent, much?" But Millicent gave her a predatory smile that said quite plainly that she'd been thinking the same thing.

"I like Gryffindors," Jessica piped up. To Draco's horror, she was actually standing with the Creevey brothers and looking quite comfortable. Poor, delusional child. Next thing, she'd be buying a camera and following Potter around the castle. Draco made a note to speak to her about not disgracing Slytherin House.

_But then_, his unhelpful brain reminded him . _I'm trailing around after a Gryffindor as well, sod it all. _Instinctively, his wandering eyes sought red hair. It didn't take long to spot Ginny sitting with Longbottom and Thomas, heads together and hands flying everywhere in heated discussion. Even in the midst of chaos and crisis, Draco's eyes narrowed at the two Gryffindor boys.

"Settle, Draco, there's no way they're thinking about her knickers," Blaise said in his ear in passing. He sat himself down on Ginny's right and she actually gave him a little half-hug. Draco's eyebrows shot up, but rather than stand there staring like an imbecile, he went to join them.

Ginny didn't give him a hug or touch him at all when he slid in on her other side, but he knew better than to expect her to.

"What, thinking it should have been McGonagall?" Blaise was saying to Longbottom, though his tone was light.

"No, I'm thinking exactly what you're thinking, Zabini," Longbottom said, not rising to the bait. "Why Snape, who has half the teaching experience, over McGonagall, basically Dumbledore's second-in-command?" He rolled his eyes. "And I don't mean this to be some stupid house rivalry thing, I'm serious. If Dumbledore were still around and could vouch for Snape – well, I'd accept it. But he's not."

"That's not the worst of it," Ginny added. "No announcement, no warning. McGonagall looked shell-shocked this morning and Snape looks like death, not like he's just got the seat he's always wanted. It doesn't add up."

"Snape never wanted headmaster anyway," Draco cut in, a bit defensively. "It was always DADA he was after. Plus, it's the timing – we know his being chosen as headmaster _now_ means something's coming. Better him than McGonagall, though."

Before the Gryffindors, indignation a-blazing, could demand to know what he meant, Longbottom stood and called their meeting to order.

As people settled in, Ginny leaned over and whispered, "What did you mean, better Snape?"

"Explain later," Draco murmured. He tried not to notice the smell of her hair as he pushed himself up onto a comfortable sofa. He didn't complain when she joined him, but frowned when she muttered, "Better be a damned good explanation, Malfoy."

As usual, everyone sat scattered in a haphazard around the room, which, at the moment, resembled a large study. Some were draped over chairs, others reclined on a large hearth rug, and a few people sat kicking their legs on a massive and, as far as Draco could tell, totally useless antique mahogany desk. Longbottom was seated in a large red pouf. Appropriate, Draco though with a momentary glow of Slytherin contentment.

"We have a problem," Longbottom began. "The problem is this: we need to discuss the implications of Severus Snape as headmaster without this meeting dissolving into an epic battle of house loyalties."

"I'm in," Blaise said at once. "We know he's not just there because he's the best choice – which, incidentally, he _is_ right now. No, listen," he added when several people protested.

"Yeah, listen, Weasley," Draco whispered in Ginny ear. She elbowed him, none-too-gently.

"We're about to get slammed with all kinds of hell," Blaise went on. "If Snape's headmaster, who put him there? Probably the Dark Lord. If the _Prophet's _spewing rot about Potter and Dumbledore, who's bribing or forcing it to do that? And, incidentally, where's the Ministry of Magic been lately?" Several people nodded slowly and Blaise continued, "I know it sounds strange, but if Snape's in charge of Hogwarts now, it's good for us. He knows more about Death Eaters, about Voldemort's inner circle, than anyone else at Hogwarts. McGonagall, even Flitwick – they don't know what they need to know to protect the school. If Snape has to let Death Eaters in to teach – that's a rumor going around – he'll be able to give some warning, to keep us informed so we can be ready. He'll know what punishments to expect and how to strengthen a resistance movement."

"You sound awfully sure Snape's going to help us," Hannah Abbot said softly. "I don't mean – I'm not accusing anyone, but he was once a Death Eater, wasn't he?" A low murmur of ascent echoed through the room.

"Whatever he is now," Draco jumped in quickly, "he's already protected several students this year. He didn't have to, nothing in it for him, but he gave them sanctuary when they needed it."

"Do we know he didn't let the Death Eaters in that night?" Ginny said, almost a whisper. She saw Draco's expression and she added hastily, "I'm not pointing my finger. I think we all want to believe that he's on our side, but we can't be a good resistance movement if we don't question everything and try to understand the big picture."

At this, several Ravenclaws nodded, but Millicent, scowling, said loudly, "So then why haven't we questioned Potter and Granger and Weasley's mysterious disappearance?"

Several Gryffindors protested violently and Draco heard Pansy's teeth grind together. Longbottom held up a hand and room went silent again. "No, she's right. If we're going to question Snape, we've got to question Harry, Ron, and Hermione."

"We got their note," Ginny began, and Draco could see her eyes darken.

"Sure, but we don't know what they're up to or why they left."

"I'd vouch for Harry, any day," Parvati said. When Pansy turned a possessive glare on her that the Gryffindor fortunately couldn't see, Blasie nudge her and put a finger to her lips. She looked ready to bite, but didn't. "He's saved my life," Parvati went on, oblivious to the threat of Pansy, "and the lives of half the people in the room numerous times."

"So has Snape," Longbottom said quietly. "I heard he even saved Harry's life first year. Let's be realistic, Parvati. Snape's contributed a lot, just like Harry. And Dumbledore trusted him."

Draco was a little surprised to see Longbottom playing devil's advocate, particularly for the man who had once been his greatest fear. But then, Longbottom was the leader. If he lost objectivity, he simply couldn't lead and this group probably wouldn't have lasted as long as it had. Draco groaned to himself. He was running out of reasons to ridicule the Gryffindor and he found it irritating.

"I don't think casting suspicion is productive either," Susie Bones spoke up. She gave Ginny a small smile across the circle. Ginny let out an audible sigh. When Draco glanced at her, he saw her having a little sulk. He fought a smile.

"You're right, Suse, but we have to know what Snape's going to do," Longbottom insisted. He probably recognized the thin ice he was on at the moment, because he added, "Look, this isn't about casting blame or jumping to conclusions, but we have to know what Voldemort and his contingent want Snape in the big chair for." Several people winced as he said the Dark Lord's name, Draco included.

"Ooh, la la, and what a big chair it is," Pansy muttered to Millicent. Several of the team girls snickered, hiding it badly under their hands. Ginny had to bury her face in a sofa cushion.

"Seriously," Longbottom said, but his lip twitched. "We need to know what the game is and what the rules are before Snape has to force the first move. We need to be ready."

"We can get to Snape, try to find out what's going on," Blaise said. "He trusts us; Draco, Pansy, Mill, and me. He's looking out for us this year."

"And I'm his favorite second-year," Jessica piped up. "I can find things out, too, and just one person will be less suspicious."

"Sounds good," Longbottom agreed. "You lot should work together on that. And look, I know you probably trust Snape and have reason to do, but he can't know about the DA. It's just not safe."

"We know, we'll play it cool," Blaise said easily. He smirked. "We Slytherins are a right side better at sneaky than you lot are."

"I – there's something else I wanted to bring up."

Everyone turned with some surprise to Lisa Turpin, a quiet Ravenclaw who didn't often talk during the meetings. Luna Lovegood, seated beside her, patted her hand encouragingly.

"What is it?" Longbottom asked.

Lisa glanced nervously around. "I don't mean to – I didn't want to bring this up again, but Ginny did earlier and I think ..." She trailed off, looking even more nervous. Draco felt a prickle at the back of his neck.

"Whatever it is, you can say it here." Lovegood smiled in what she probably imagined was a heartening way. "Everyone is very nice, you know."

Lisa took a deep breath. "We're all talking about Snape suddenly becoming headmaster, but there's something else we haven't considered. Not really." She took another breath. Draco wondered if she might actually faint. "It's just – we never really bothered discussing who let might have let all those Death Eaters in or who – who might have killed Dumbledore. We didn't want anyone upset so we let it go. But I don't think we can afford to anymore." She paused, then said in a rush, "Ginny said it might have been Snape. But it could have been anyone."

Longbottom's expression made Draco terribly uneasy. "We know whoever killed Dumbledore was a powerful, well-trained wizard," he hedged. "Probably a Death Eater."

"And whoever let the Death Eaters in?" Lisa pressed quietly. She looked wretched, but determined. "If we're not going to accuse Snape, a known affiliate ..."

"It was someone inside the school," Ginny murmured. She was saying what no one else wanted to, and she didn't look at Draco as she spoke. "And unless we want another round of arguments about who to blame, there's only one alternative."

"We can't know for sure about the rest of the school, but we _do _need to know it wasn't one of us, here in this room, who let the Death Eaters in," Pansy finished, nodding at her. She glared at everyone else. "I know the lot of you are probably thinking it was me or Draco, maybe another Slytherin." Draco couldn't help a small smirk at the uncomfortable faces and eyes that wouldn't meet his. "I don't want suspicion to tear us apart. We're all needed now," Pansy snapped, and several people jumped. "So," she went on, and Draco could tell she was enjoying the discomfort around her. "Short of torture, there's only one absolutely foolproof way to know for sure."

There was a long pause.

"It's a good idea – it's the only idea." Longbottom appeared to know exactly what she was talking about.

"I know where Snape keeps his ready-made potions," Blaise spoke up, cottoning on. "Found the cupboard fifth year. I'll get it."

"Get what?" Hannah Abbot cut in. "Wait a minute, no one's casting blame. What's going on?"

"Veritaserum," Pansy and Longbottom said at the same time.

"No!" Susie Bones looked alarmed. "No, we vouched for the Slytherins!"

"But, Susie, we all know Gryffindors can go bad, too," Ginny piped up. "Peter Pettigrew, anyone?" Draco shivered.

"What?" Ginny whispered under cover of another the low buzz of conversation that flickered around the room.

"I met Pettigrew once," Draco muttered. "Creepy bloke. Obsessed with cheese."

Ginny clapped a hand over her mouth and shook with helpless giggles. Draco thoughtfully handed her back the sofa cushion.

"We trusted people last time we had the DA and look what happened," Colin Creevey was saying almost reluctantly to the room at large. "Marietta blabbed on us and Umbridge nearly put Cruciatus on Harry." Draco attention returned to the conversation at hand with a snap of unpleasant memory and Ginny took several calming breaths beside him, casting the cushion aside.

"And Marietta got horribly mutilated as a result," Millcent snapped. Everyone stared at her. "What?" she demanded. "She was terrified and thought she was doing the right thing! Doing good, just like the rest of you. She trusted Umbridge and _she _got screwed. Have you lot seen her since she graduated? She wears a scarf everywhere she goes. She's saving up money to get special Muggle surgery."

"How do you know – " Parvati began, looking horrified.

"Saw her last summer, didn't I? Her mum and mine are friends." Millicent glared. "I won't sign a cursed parchment to be in this little club, but no one cheats Veritaserum and I'll happily take it so I don't wind up like Marietta."

No one spoke for a long moment. "This is war," Longbottom said at last. "But I'd rather do this the non-scarring way, if we can. Zabini, get the potion." He took a long look around the room. "Everyone will take it and everyone will be questioned, so if you want out, now's the time." His expression was almost kind. No one moved and he nodded. "A member of each house will attend each interview with specific, random questions in mind. They won't share their questions with anyone prior to the interview. The interviews will happen here, where they can't be overheard or influenced. I'll be at every meeting with Zabini to administer the Veritaserum. Agreed?"

Everyone glanced at Millicent. She nodded. "I like it. It's fair."

"Who said the world was fair?" Pansy muttered.

"It's as fair as we make it," Ginny countered. "I think it's brilliant, Nev. Bulstrode." Others nodded and voice their agreement.

"In that case, we'll start right away. I'll draw up a schedule and we'll get this over with this week. Give me ten minutes to get it sorted. Then send a rep from each house to make sure the schedule looks fair and doable."

"And – and who killed Dumbledore?" Lisa Turpin said. "I'm sorry!" she cried, trembling when several people looked at her. "But someone in the school who's that powerful? I want an answer, don't you?"

"It wasn't one of us," Blaise said. "Not possible. Even three or four of us couldn't take Dumbledore." He looked Lisa in the eye. "Look, Turpin, is now really the time for this? I reckon we've got more immediate things to worry about."

Lisa opened her mouth, but after a moment and a look around the room, she closed it. She still looking wretchedly worried.

"What's done is done," Longbottom said slowly. "Dumbledore's – well, he's gone and we need to worry about ourselves and the Hogwarts for the moment. I reckon whoever killed Dumbledore isn't going to bother with students. How important are any of us, in the grand scheme, compared to him?" He looked around at them all and Draco was unwillingly impressed by the command and confidence in his eyes. "We'll work it out. We always have."

Longbottom hopped up and went to the ornate mahogany desk. Slowly, the others began talking to each other, breaking off into small groups. Ginny pushed herself off the couch and went to join Longbottom, giving him a hug before he sat down. "You completely and totally rock my world, Nev. That was brilliant."

Draco glowered at stupid Longbottom and then felt like a total idiot.

"You look like a total idiot," Blaise assured him as he went to join Jessica and her scarily eager-eyed Gryffindor escorts.

"Nice," Draco muttered, heading for the desk in spite of himself.

"Zabini's like your little shoulder angel." Ginny grinned knowingly at him.

"Angel? Are you mad?" Draco threw a incredulous look at Blaise, who was teasing Jessica and Creeveys.

Ginny giggled. "All right, shoulder … not devil, but …"

"He's my shoulder mum," Draco said at last, loud enough that Blaise glanced up at him and made a rude gesture.

"I told you," Ginny said. "He's just looking out for you."

"You never told me why," Draco murmured, leaning against the desk.

"Like I said, it's not my story to tell," Ginny told him primly. She glanced around. No one was looking their way – even Longbottom was engrossed with his list – and she reached surreptitiously out to squeeze his hand. "You just have to trust me."

"Think I can do that," he said gruffly, that speck of self-control he didn't really have anymore (where she was concerned) fading a little further into his mind. Fortunately, Ginny seemed to be more or less in control of herself because she pulled away and wandered over to Thomas and the Patil twins, who were sitting opposite the Abbots and Susie Bones. Pansy slid in between Ginny and Hannah Abbot. Ginny leaned into her and Pansy gave her a nudge.

"Pining for your brother?" Pansy taunted.

"Pining for your precious – _ow_! Stupid _cow_," Ginny said with emphasis, rubbing her ribs.

"Hey, that rhymes," Thomas pointed out, and several people laughed.

Draco stayed by the desk, watching the different groups interact. He glanced at Longbottom and was surprised to meet his eye over the desk.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Longbottom murmured, his eyes drifting over the noisy occupants of the room.

"What is?" Draco asked, following his gaze.

"How we don't all hate each other as much as we thought we did."

"Don't be such a sap, Longbottom."

"Don't be such a bully, Malfoy."

They exchanged a small grin. Draco felt disgusted and wronged by himself.

"Don't agonize about it," Longbottom said, as though reading his mind. "Remember, I just defended Snape to everyone. The man still makes me want to wet myself every time I go into his classroom."

"He didn't like your dad, either," Draco said absently. "He once told me."

"Really?" Longbottom's tone was carefully casual.

"Really." Draco's threw him a look. "Said he was too _nice_."

Longbottom relaxed. "There are worse things to be." He smirked. "Greasy, for one thing."

"Apparently, it's a genetic thing," Draco reminisced. Longbottom gazed at him in undisguised wonder. Draco sighed. "And now Snape's going to kill me."

"Hey, I'll not say a word." Longbottom shook his head, turning back to the parchment with something akin to awe on his face. "Thanks, Malfoy," he amazed Draco by adding a moment later. "I think maybe the idea of genetic greasiness makes him fractionally less terrifying."

"He's not scary, really," Draco said, shaking his head. "I mean, of course I humiliated you for the boggart back in third year, but honestly, Longbottom, you once dueled Death Eaters in the Ministry of Magic and now you're heading a guerilla resistance movement. How're you still scared of Snape?"

"You still afraid of Hagrid's classes?" Longbottom paused. His lip twitched. "Okay, bad example."

"Damn right it is," Draco said. "Who isn't afraid of his classes, apart from Potter, who's got the survival instincts of a lemming."

Longbottom snorted and tried – badly – to cover a laugh with a cough. "Lemmings," he snickered, returning to his parchment list.

"I'd look out for that one," Seamus Finnegan said in passing, nodding toward Longbottom. "Too much time in the greenhouses, if you get me."

"You shouldn't say things like that about Malfoy, Seamus," Longbottom replied before Draco could. "We're supposed to be promoting inter-house unity."

"Oh, bite me, Longbottom." But even as Finnegan laughed, Draco couldn't work up to a scowl. To hide his shame, he stalked away to join Blaise and the terrifying Creevey duo, who were still fascinating poor, misguided Jessica with their stories of squid, pumpkin pasties, and illicit photos.

Not long after, Longbottom's list was ready and after Blaise had checked their times and who they were each going to interview, they made for the door.

"Have a word with Snape?" Millicent suggested.

"My job," Jessica cut in, apparently managing to tear herself away from her Gryffindor Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Draco thought he could hear distant weeping.

"We'll all do our bit, little upstart," Blaise said, slinging an arm around her shoulders.

"I think that's a good idea." Pansy grinned. "You may be a favorite, Jess, but you're absolute crap at manipulation."

"I'm a quick study. I played in our last Quidditch match, didn't I?" Jessica stuck her chin out.

"And you've got those horrific Gryffindors slobbering all over you," Draco pointed out, wincing at the very idea.

"I miss Quidditch," Jessica went on, ignoring Draco. "It was like a high, being on the broom again."

"We'll get you back up there," Blaise promised.

Pansy looked back at Ginny. She winced. "Never thought I'd pity a Weasley, but it can't be easy for her right now."

"With the team drama?" Millicent said, eying the redhead.

"The team, her brother MIA, most of her family part of the resistance." Pansy shrugged. "Saw the lot here when the Death Eaters got in. We've got it bad, but Weasley's life right now can't be picnic, either."

Draco had never wanted so badly to reach out for Ginny. He was grateful to Blaise for pulling him out of the room and frog-marching him down the corridor. Without Ginny immediately in view, the temptation eased into a dull ache in his chest.

"Right," he said, straightening his uniform. "Let's see the headmaster."

**)BW(**

They did see the headmaster, all five of them together. Jessica gasped when they first entered the headmaster's office – obviously she hadn't seen Snape up close in a while.

Draco, Blaise, and Pansy, the smooth talkers, tried every trick they knew to get something out of Snape. It did absolutely no good at all. Draco knew to his core that Snape was on their side; on Dumbledore's side. For reasons of his own, however, Snape wasn't going to give them even a hint. He promised that they and "other Slytherins" would be safe enough under his command, but when they asked about other students, casually mentioning their friends in Ravenclaw (but not daring to mention Hufflepuff or Gryffindor), Snape shrugged and said, "They shouldn't have any trouble. Purebloods will have especial immunity in the coming months."

He glanced up, his sunken eyes calm and calculating as usual. "It would also behoove you all to know that there was another breakout from Azkaban last night. It will make scant appearance in the _Prophet_, as the Ministry doesn't wish to alarm anyone unnecessarily." Snape spared Draco a glance. "Your mad aunt is on the loose again, I'm afraid, Draco. As is Fenrir Greyback."

The old fear lurched up Draco's throat, but since facing Aunt Bella with Ginny during the battle, he wasn't feeling the strain quite as he used to. He took a deep breath. "Thank you, sir. That's good to know."

"If that's all," Snape said, returning to a neat stack of papers on his desk. "I have a great deal to do."

Pansy bit her lip and Blaise gave a frustrated grunt as they all trooped out of the office.

"And my Quidditch team, sir?" Draco hazarded, wishing he hadn't the moment Snape met his eye.

"The time for games is over, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said softly. "You're a N.E.W.T. student now. You have final exams coming soon. And there are members of your team with, shall we say, questionable backgrounds."

Draco knew better than to respond to that, but Blaise and Millicent practically had to carried Pansy from the office. Draco clamped a hand over her mouth and Jessica ran ahead to pull open the office door. As soon as they were safely in the hall below, Pansy burst into tears and wouldn't speak to any of them again for the rest of the day, though Draco had seen her sitting in a huddle with Ginny in the very back of the library. He was alarmed that they both appeared to be crying and he didn't dare go near them.

"I know how Weasley feels now," was all Pansy would say about it in Potions the next morning.

"Well, we know where Snape's at, anyway," Blaise muttered to Draco a short time later as they chopped up large Mandrake roots. Snape's former lessons in healing potions had now been replaced with complicated and dangerous potions like their current assignment, the Draught of Living Death. "No wonder he looks like the Grim Reaper."

They both glanced up at Snape, who sat behind his desk very much as he had in the headmaster's office. He appeared to be going over another neat stack of papers, but his eyes didn't seem to be moving.

"He warned me away from him," Draco said under his breath to Blaise. "Before all this, he told me to leave him alone. I don't think he's going to be able to help us much. He told me not to count on him anymore, to find other friends."

"Bloody well right, wasn't he?" Blaise said, going back to their potion. "Actually," he added. "I think he's helping as much as he can do. That was massive hint he dropped about the Ministry 'not wanting to alarm anyone' about the Azkaban breakouts. It was like a big sign that said, 'Look out! Ministry's going under!'"

Draco shuddered. "How deep do you think the Ministry's in?"

"I reckon Death Eaters in ever department," Blaise mumbled. "Five Galleons says we see a new Minister for Magic in the next week."

Draco accepted the bet, but only because he was desperately hoping his friend was wrong.

In keeping with the safety of his Quidditch team, Draco went to each member individually and told them to lock up their lockers and stay well back from the Quidditch pitch except during house matches. Most of them were furious, but none more so than Jools.

"You can't get rid of the team, coach!" she raged. "It's the only way we can play Quidditch! How're we supposed to practice?" She gave him a horrible look. "I practically had to disown my sodding family to be on this team. I didn't make that sacrifice so we could just give up!"

"You're not the only one who made sacrifices," Draco said, fighting to keep his temper (it was a losing battle). "And believe me, Mill and Pansy made far bigger ones than you. Anyway, the team's in pieces – we've you to thank for that."

"Oh, don't start," she retorted. "I wasn't the one caught shagging the coach. You're just hacked off about Weasley."

"Oh, believe me," Draco fairly hissed. "I'm not the only one who thinks you're an absolute waste of space who doesn't deserve to be on the team anymore, never mind captain it." He never could or would have said that if the team were still intact. "The only ones who won't tell it to your face now are the Hufflepuffs."

He left her standing alone in a darkening hallway. He thought maybe he should have felt bad – instead, he congratulated himself on being a Slytherin, and thus, feeling satisfied.

"Malfoy!" Ginny exploded at him when he made the mistake of telling her. They were walking around the lake together – it was the first time they had ever done something together outside of Quidditch, the DA, and stumbling into each other's common rooms at odd moments. When Blaise had walked Granger round the lake, he had come back crowing about their "second date." Draco wondered if this counted as his and Ginny's first.

"What? It's true," he retorted, mind returning to the unpleasant subject of the team captain. "She's wasting everyone's time and if Snape hadn't ended us, Boot's little tantrums would have."

"Do you think she doesn't know that?" Ginny demanded. Her hands were jammed into the pockets of her robe against the chilly Saturday morning air that seemed to promise another snowstorm. "She's trying to make everyone else hurt as much as she is. That's the point of being totally unreasonable and cruel – bring everyone else down with you."

"Doesn't make it right," he shot back, glaring at the woods' edge they were approaching.

Ginny stopped suddenly. When Draco turned back to face her, he couldn't read her expression. "How many times have you done exactly what she's doing?" When Draco didn't answer immediately, she added, "I've done it. Who hasn't? I hate the way she's treating me – it _really_ hurts, believe me – but _she's_ hurting and she's driven away everyone who might be able to help her. Doesn't that make you sad?"

"Makes me sad that you're wasting all this sympathy on her when she treats you like rubbish," Draco said gruffly.

"You used to treat me like rubbish," Ginny said coolly. There was a little twinkle in her dark eyes that belied the accusation in her tone.

"At least I wasn't pretending to be your friend at the time," he muttered. He didn't like to remember how he'd treated her, or worse, how he'd looked down on her. "I was honest, at least."

"Don't take it hard, I wasn't great to you, either," Ginny said, the twinkle spreading into a smile. She looped her arm through his. "Just – look, if you can't or won't try to understand what Jools must be going through, be civil to her for my sake. Because it will make me happy." She leaned her head against his shoulder and batted her eyelashes at him.

"I don't owe you anything, Weasley," he said sharply, alarmed at the sudden warmth in his chest.

"Like hell you don't," Ginny retorted. "I'm your star Chaser. Admit it."

Draco tried to be cross, but instead he let out a grunt of laughter. "Cheeky."

"I'm that too, a bit," Ginny admitted, giving his arm a squeeze. She let the silence hang comfortably between them for a few minutes and then said, "How're you lot fairing, with Snape and everything?"

Draco shrugged. He noticed her hands, hooked over his arm, were bare and chapped from the cold. He curled one of his gloved hands over them. "He's wasting away, whatever he's into," Draco said at last, looking ahead as they broke through the trees and made their way across the fields that sloped down to the frozen lake. "I can tell you he's not overjoyed about being headmaster."

"Is he trying to carry everything himself?" Ginny asked, adding pointedly, "Only I know that's a Slytherin thing."

"How subtle you are, Weasley." Draco gave her a small smile, which she returned with a bright one. He felt floored by that smile. To take his mind off it, he went on. "He's got my lot he's carrying – you know, Pans and Millicent. He's got me, and my family are some of the worst." He took a deep breath. "You know what he was and what Dumbeldore had him doing. To be in the inner circle, which Snape still is as far as I know, you have to prove absolute loyalty to the Dark Lord. Whatever Snape's doing or done to prove he's still in the game, it's big."

He caught the expression on her face, could tell exactly what she was thinking at that moment. "Don't say it, Ginny!" he snapped, though his voice suddenly felt terribly weak. "I can't stand it right now."

She pulled her arm from of his. He felt bereft until she wrapped both arms around his waist and pressed herself into his side. They moved quietly forward for a few minutes, then she said, "I'm not going to say anything. You trust him, Dumbledore trusted him." She was quiet for another moment, though Draco could feel the soft tickle of her breath under his chin. "When you're the youngest in a family of nine," she said at last, " and your entire family battles evil on a daily basis, faith is a lifestyle. Without it, you just can't survive."

_Here I am, moaning on about how everyone's blaming Snape for stuff he probably did, _had_ to do, and Ginny's entire family is in danger for fighting what he's doing_.

Draco gave her a squeeze. She pulled him to a halt, shifting in his arms and staring up into his face. Then she gave him a good, hard kiss. He was just wishing they weren't both wearing four layers of winter clothing when she pulled back, her lips leaving a tingle against his.

"You're not coach of anything at the moment, so I am totally blameless," she explained, her face flushed.

"Is that so?" he said, unable to stop a grin and feeling the darkness of their conversation melting into background noise in his head. He leaned in again, but she pressed a hand over his mouth.

"Having said that, this probably isn't the best time," she finished. "War, evil headmasters, underground movements, corrupt media."

"Sounds like a perfectly ordinary day in the wizarding world to me," Draco said against her hand. He pressed his lips to it, brushing the center of her palm with his tongue. She sighed, her eyelids fluttering. Then she blinked, and snatched her hand away.

"Oy!" he started, but she was already running.

"You'll have to catch me first, Malfoy!" she called, darting up the hill toward the castle. He did catch her as she made for one of the garden walks near the front entrance.

"I will make you pay for that," he panted.

She gave him a shove backward that brought him up against one of the stone walls that enclosed the garden. She was still quite strong from all the Quidditch training. "Can't wait," she said, advancing on him and leaning into his chest. Her nose was icy cold when it brushed his neck. He let out a squawk and twisted away.

"What?" she demanded, backing up several paces and glaring at him.

"Cold appendage," he said, smirking at her from a safe distance. "Keep your nose away from me, Weasley."

Ginny stuck said offending appendage in the air and marched off toward the castle. She only got a few paces away before he caught her from behind, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "Payback," he whispered against her ear before pressing his own nose into her neck. She gave an ear-slipping shriek, part indignation and part laughter, ducking her head.

"Stop it!" she cried. "I'm ticklish."

"Ah," Draco said, holding on tight. "Shame you let that slip."

She twisted in his arms, sliding hers around him and pressing as close as their extra layers would allow. Draco still found it very distracting. "Okay, okay, you win."

"Too right," he agreed with inward glee. He had just brushed his lips across hers when her fingers pinched his sides. He almost knocked both their teeth out as he leapt backwards. Ginny cackled, which was frightening, and gave him an innocent little wave, which was not.

"Oh, it's _on_, Weaslette!"

She gave a little cry and pretended to swoon. "My fear overwhelms me, good sir." Then she cracked her knuckles. "Bring it."

**)BW(**

"A what?" Blaise said politely, his expression unreadable.

"A tickle war, don't make me say it again," Draco grumbled as they wandered the dungeon hallways later that afternoon. It was depressing enough to think that he was so out of his mind for Ginny that he would do something so totally inane – and _Hufflepuff_ – as engage in a tickle fight. It was worse that when she finally conceded defeat, she had put her hand on his chest and said, "I'm serious, Malfoy. There's a war on and we've both got responsibilities right now. Let's – take this slow."

Draco had groaned and Ginny had given a rueful smile, pressing it to his cheek. "Hey, at least we're both here. You know, easily accessible in case the mood strikes us." She grinned suggestively and then said innocently, "And by the mood, I mean the mood to be terribly overprotective and paranoiac about each other's safety. Anyway, imagine what Parkinson and Zabini are going through right now."

"You really shouldn't have done that," Blaise said. Draco gave him a questioning look. "I mean, you_ should_ be snogging Weasley," Blaise amended, grinning. "What she's saying about the war and stuff is rubbish. You've only got one life and it's taken you two a bloody long time to get things sorted. I meant Jools – you've had fine self-control in the past. Why'd you go off on her this time? What happens when the team gets back together?"

"With the Dark Lord ruining all our lives?" Draco snapped, thoughts of Ginny temporarily vacating his head in the wake of thoughts of evil. "There isn't going to be a getting-back-together, Blaise." He paused, took a few breaths. "Anyway, don't tell me off, Ginny already did." And she was back again.

"Weasley, huh?" Blaise rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hide a slight twitch of his lip from Draco. "Girl's right stubborn."

"She's loyal to the death – should have been a Hufflepuff," Draco muttered.

He was spared Blaise's undoubtedly mocking reply by an owl dropping a thick envelope on his head. Draco cursed the air blue and tore the envelope open with his teeth. His expression changed the instant he opened the tanned parchment within.

"What is it?" Blaise asked.

Draco silently held out the parchment so his friend could read over his shoulder.

"I'll be damned." Blaise whistled between his teeth as he pulled back.

"I know, I was expecting to be torn down a peg or five," Draco said, shaking his head as he stared down at Mila Malfoy's signature at the bottom of the parchment.

"I thought your aunt hated you." Blaise leaned back against the wall, staring expectantly at him.

"She doesn't hate me, she just won't like me," Draco explained wearily, leaning back beside him. "She thinks I'm just like my father."

"Why?"

"Last time she saw me I was acting just like my father."

"Ah, I see. When you were eleven." Blaise rubbed his chin, undoubtedly reminiscing on what a loser Draco had been. Draco often secretly wondered to himself why Blaise had ever agreed to be his friend. "So – what now?"

"Get ready for backlash." Draco pushed off the wall and headed for the nearest fireplace, which happened to be in an empty classroom. He cast a charm and flames burst from his wand into the grate. He glanced over Aunt Mila's letter one last time, committing the important bits to memory, before tossing it into the fire.

"Backlash?"

"Aunt Mila knows what Ananda's into now," Draco explained, watching the letter burn. "But she's a Malfoy and she's smart. She'll want to get Ananda out safely without stirring up trouble." He paused. "Not that she won't stir up trouble if she can't get to Ananda."

"Sounds like Ananda won't go for that. Being swept away to safety, I mean."

"She won't."

"You think she'd hurt your aunt?"

Draco let out a heavy breath. "Until this fall, I never would have taken her for a Death Eater wannabe. I don't know what she'd do anymore."

"Should you warn your aunt?" Blaise glanced up from the fire, where the last of the letter was being enveloped in flame. "I mean, you already have, but does she realize how dangerous it actually is? I mean, she is living in France. They don't really take the Dark Lord seriously."

"She moved to France to protect Ananda from the Dark Lord. She knows the risks and she wouldn't take another warning from me very kindly." Draco turned his back on the fireplace, leaving the fire to burn itself out, and led the way back into the corridor. "The best we can hope for is that she interferes with Ananda's plans and buys our vigilante group a little time."

Blaise shook his head. "Hell, we need all the time we can get."

**)BW(**

Though Ginny's mind was almost always on Quidditch these days – the dissolution of the entire girls' team, the way the house teams seemed distracted and uncoordinated on the pitch – she was still allowing it to wander to her meeting with Jools in the empty classroom. She was still totally flummoxed by the run-in, especially the reappearance of Jools and her bad attitude in the Great Hall less than twenty minutes later. She never tried to talk to the Ravenclaw directly, but had taken to trailing her whenever she could. Unfortunately, she found little that way. Either she caught Jools going from class to class or from the Great Hall to the Ravenclaw common room. Twice, Ginny had unexpectedly run into unpleasant Slytherins and been forced to break off pursuit.

On the upside, the fourth run-in had given her the opportunity to covertly practice a Bat Bogey hex on Gus Godkin. Jools had started down a corridor, but when Ginny went to follow her, she found Godkin instead. He had taken her by surprise when she'd turned into the passage and after a bit of a tussle, Ginny had managed to get away and hide behind a tapestry until he lost interest. When he turned to go, she sent the hex using wordless magic, something she was getting fairly good at during DA practice.

"What the hell!" he snarled, staring wildly around.

She kept her snickering to herself and ducked through the tapestry to a hidden stairway behind it.

"Gin, be more careful!" Parvati ordered when Ginny returned to the common room.

"Or what, Godkin will come back for seconds?" Ginny retorted. "Just let him try!"

"_Or something,_" Lavender insisted, her fingers gently probing at the bruise on Ginny's arm. "He's got a reputation, you know." She pulled out her wand and whispered a spell. The bruise shrank and disappeared.

"Oh, I can't imagine what kind." Ginny felt more irritated with herself than anything. She'd been raised by several adult brothers. Bill and Charlie had brought her up on sporadic self-defense lessons since she hit puberty at eleven. She should have been prepared and she should have kept an eye out. Anyway, she wouldn't let it happen again. She could handle a wand just fine. She glanced at her healed arm. "Thanks, Lav."

"Any time."

"Ginny, are you okay?"

Ginny glanced up. Two of her dorm mates, Lacey and Rosie, stood nervously behind them, shifting from foot to foot. They'd been so nice to her these past few weeks, despite the Quidditch team. She smiled at them. "Fine. Just had to Bat Bogey Godkin."

"Sod him, he totally tried to grope me once," Rosie said, rolling her eyes. "Anyone with breasts. Sick bastard."

"No argument." Ginny nodded toward the free chairs opposite the sofa where she sat with Parvati and Lavender. "Want to join us?"

The sixth years did, looking a little awed.

"We don't bite," Parvati said, eyebrows raised.

"Hard," Lavender added, nudging her. They both giggled at some inside joke.

"We know." But Lacey and Rosie relaxed, even looking a little delighted at sitting with the seventh years. Ginny took it for granted that the years intermingled, but not all of them had the weird multilateral access she did as Ron's sister, a DA member, and a Quidditch player.

"Speaking of Godkin, I thought he was dating Malfoy's cousin," Rosie went on.

"He is, as far as I know," Ginny said, wincing at the thought of Ananda. Even though it had been a long while since the end of their friendship, Ginny hated the thought of Ananda being with someone like Godkin. It made her feel a little sick.

"Weird," Rosie said. "I saw him making out with Julia Boot the other day."

"_What_?" Ginny and Parvati shrieked simultaneously.

"With Jools – _what_?" Natalie was suddenly beside them.

"Are you sure he wasn't forcing her or anything?" Parvati demanded.

"Looked pretty consensual to me," Rosie said, clearly surprised at the force of their reaction. She frowned. "Wait, isn't Ananda on your Quidditch team?"

"Not for a long time," Ginny gritted, her abused brain twirling with the same confusing kaleidescope of disjointed events: Jools accusing Ginny of shagging the coach. Jools begging Ginny to leave the empty classroom for her own safety. Jools yelling and carrying on at Draco about how the Quidditch team _had_ to go on. Jools snogging Godkin. None of it added up, except the Jools seemed to be losing her mind.

Well, there was one person Ginny could think of who would know more about Jools and her mind than anyone.

"Where're you going, Gin?" Parvati called. "It's nearly curfew!"

"To find Terry Boot," she called, slipping out of the common room.

**)BW(**

Ginny had worried that she might have trouble finding Terry and avoiding Jools. However, she found the Ravenclaw dormitory all right (thanks to Adrienne, she'd known where it was for a while) and when she knocked, a fourth year let her in.

"Is Terry around?" Ginny asked as she stepped nervously into the common room, which looked an awful lot like a small piece of the Hogwarts library.

"Yeah, thinks he's in his room," the fourth year said. "Would you like to visit?"

"Er – if he's got a minute," Ginny said. She didn't see Jools anywhere, but if she turned up it would be horrible and awkward, and some more horrible. It was,Ginny thought as she looked around, like being in a lion's den and not seeing the lion.

"Ginny!"

Ginny let out a little shriek as she whirled around. She gasped, pressing a hand to her heart as Adrienne appeared behind her.

"Little jumpy there?" Adrienne asked, not unkindly. She smiled at the boy who had let Ginny in. "She's with me, Andrew."

The fourth-year shrugged and seated himself at a table piled with books and loose parchment.

"Godkin jumped me less than an hours ago, so yeah," Ginny said, bending over and resting her hands on her knees. _Not Jools, not Jools_, her brain repeated like a reassuring mantra.

"Oh, yuck!" Adrienne patted her hunched shoulders. "Sorry to hear it."

When Ginny straightened a moment later, Adrienne was giving her a funny look.

"What?" Ginny said, automatically reaching up to make sure she didn't have a glob of food or a randomly erupting pimple on her face.

"I – well, I've missed you a lot lately," Adrienne admitted. "I mean," she added, dropping her voice. "I see you during DA stuff, but we don't talk much. We're team mates, aren't we? Anyway," she said, looking uncomfortable. "Whatever you did with the coach, Jools was out of order, calling you out in front of everyone."

Ginny felt a twinge in her chest and leaned forward. Adrienne returned the hug eagerly. "I've missed you, too," Ginny told her.

"I'm glad you're here, but why?" Adrienne asked, leading the way to a sofa by the fire. Unlike the Gryffindor common room, where the best seats by the fire were always taken, the majority of Ravenclaw house seemed to be seated at tables around the room, jealously guarding their study spaces.

"Looking for Terry, actually," Ginny said slowly, not sure how much she wanted to tell Adrienne.

"Oh." But Adrienne didn't ask any questions. "Oy, Benny!"

One of the boys sitting near the fire looked up. His glasses slid down his nose a bit. "What?" he demanded irritably.

"Terry around anywhere?" Adrienne asked.

"In our dorm, I think," Benny said grouchily. Ginny suddenly remembered that Benny was on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. "I suppose you want me to fetch him for you?"

"If you would _fetch_ him, I'd appreciate it," Adrienne said with a straight face. She waited until Benny slouched off up the dormitory stairs before letting out a snort of laughter.

"He seems ..." Ginny said, searching for the right word.

"Like he's got a broom up his bum?" Adrienne suggested and they smothered their laughter in the sofa cushions. "It's true," Adrienne managed after a moment. "Everyone's feeling the holiday slacker's guilt and so we've all been studying like mad." She gestured around the common room, which seemed unusually quiet. "Do you think any of the other common rooms look like this?"

"Not Gryffindor's," Ginny admitted. Actually, Gryffindor's common room was looking increasingly like a camp for secret agents, with people covertly tucking lists of researched spells into their back pockets and stuffing maps of Hogwarts into their rucksacks.

"So Godkin jumped you," Adrienne mused, looking Ginny up and down. "You got away, it looks like."

"Yeah." Ginny rolled her eyes. "What a creep. I cursed him on my way out – Bat Bogey."

Adrienne grinned. "You've got a reputation with that one," she agreed.

Footsteps sounded down the boys' staircase and Terry came into the common room. He paused when he saw Ginny, but he didn't scowl or say anything horrible as he approached.

"How's it going, Weasley?" he asked, leaning on the back on an armchair opposite Ginny and Adrienne's couch.

"Same old, same old," she said cautiously. "You?"

"Not bad," he said. "What's up?"

In other words, what was she doing in his common room when everyone in the castle knew how his twin felt about her.

"Adrienne, can we have a minute?" Ginny asked. "Please," she added, catching to disappointed look on Adrienne's face. "Wait for me – maybe we can make a kitchen run."

Adrienne smiled. "Sure." She went and had a seat at one of the tables near the staircases to the dorms, pulling a book toward her.

"What's this about?" Terry asked, seating himself in the chair he'd been leaning on, and looking Ginny up and down with an unreadable face.

"Two things," Ginny said. "First," and she leaned forward as she dropped her voice. "I know you were in Dumbledore's Army last time, and I know you hated Hermione for hexing Marietta. But it's different with Neville Longbottom in charge and I was wondering if you'd come back, if I nominated you."

Terry stared at her, wide-eyed. At last, his expression still unreadable, he said, "Really? Longbottom?"

Ginny chuckled. "He's brilliant, I'm telling you. Other Ravenclaws in the DA like him, too. He's fair and he sees beyond his own house."

"And my sister?"

"She's – the other reason I'm here," Ginny said slowly. "No, listen, please!" she begged when Terry's mouth opened. "I'm not here to harp on her or be horrible. I just – something happened a while ago that I can't explain and I'm really worried. I think Jools is in serious trouble."

Something like concern flickered in Terry's eyes. "I've been really worried about her lately," he admitted. "What happened?"

Ginny told him about finding Jools in the classroom and then seeing her twenty minutes later in the Great Hall. Terry's eyebrows drew together as she spoke. By the time she finished, he was chewing a fingernail. Ginny almost smiled – Jools did that when she was anxious.

"Either she was taking the mickey in the classroom, and that doesn't make any sense," Ginny said. "Or something really strange is going on."

"I'd go with strange," Terry agreed. "She's treated me like absolute garbage lately and I can't imagine why."

"There's something else I think you should know," Ginny began slowly. "Mind you, I heard it from someone else, but it's someone I trust."

"Tell me."

She did, all about what Rosie had seen.

"With _Godkin_?" Terry breathed, his lip curling.

"That's what my dorm mate said," Ginny said. "Mind you, she doesn't know Jools well, but since the team started Jools has spent a lot of time in the Gryffindor common room." Ginny swallowed hard. "Obviously, not so much anymore."

Terry took a deep breath. "Look, I know Jools hasn't been herself lately," he said at last. "It's good of you to worry about her anyway."

"She was one of my best mates," Ginny told him honestly. "Something's _very_ wrong. I'm sure of that."

They sat in pensive silence for a moment.

"Our family doesn't have any connections to dark magic that I know of," Terry said at last, rubbing his chin. "And she's acting angry, not scared, so I reckon she's not being blackmailed or harassed or anything."

"What about the classroom?" Ginny demanded.

"Weasley, I don't know." Terry ran a hand over his untidy hair. When his eyes focused on her again, they were intent. "Look, can you get me back into the DA? I know the rules, I know the drill."

"We're doing a kind of initiation right now," Ginny said. "No, nothing scarring or anything," she said hastily. "Something painless and foolproof, to make sure every single one of is genuine. If you want, I can have you put into the schedule."

Terry paused.

"Those other Ravenclaws I mentioned agreed to it," Ginny said. "They thought it was a good idea."

"All right," Terry said slowly. "Fine. I'm in."

"Lovely!" Ginny said, smiling tentatively. "I'll check with Nev about fitting you into the schedule."

"All right." Terry glanced around. "Adrienne's getting impatient. I'll let you get back to your kitchen raid."

"Thanks for listening, Boot."

"Thanks for looking out for my sister, Weasley."

Adrienne saw them get up and was on her way to meet Ginny when the common room door opened. Ginny's heart dropped into her stomach. She felt sick.

"What," Jools said, "the _hell_ are you contaminating my common room for?"

Ginny would have Apparated then and there if she'd had her license. "Believe it or not, you were never my only friend in Ravenclaw," she snarled, hurt and anger roughening her voice. "Adrienne, I'm not hungry. See you around."

"Gin, wait – " But Ginny was through the common room door and running down the corridor before her friend could finish. She didn't feel anything and she thought if she kept running it might stay that way. So thinking, she took the stairs two at a time and hurtled along the sixth floor corridor. Without realizing it, her feet began to slow. She gasped for breath and as her blood slowed, her brain began a sluggish awakening as well.

When she came to a halt, she was standing before the entrance to the deserted classroom where she had first found Jools.

With a sudden sense of urgency, Ginny stood still and listened. The sixth floor wasn't often used this year, and no one appeared to be up there now. She heard nothing and, wand unlit, crept toward the door. It was a few inches ajar and Ginny paused, listening as hard as she could. Still, nothing. Taking a deep breath, she peered into the classroom. She couldn't see much, but as her eyes began to adjust, she pushed the door open as little as possible and squeezed through. Wand gripped tightly in her right hand, she looked around, trying to decide if there was anyone there. She didn't see anyone and still didn't hear anything, so she crept forward.

"Ginny?" a voice said through the darkness. Ginny had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming.

"Jools?" she gasped, her heart hammering against her ribs. "This isn't possible, I just saw you in your common room!"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Jools demanded, ignoring the accusation. It was the same demand she had made in the common room, but somehow it sounded totally different. "If you're caught here, Ginny – you have to go!"

"That threat worked last time," Ginny said, steeling herself and moving further into the room. "I'm not leaving you here again. Tell me where you are." She still couldn't see anything in the shadows that looked like Jools.

"Get out!" Jools hissed. "Ginny, please – "

Footsteps echoed in the hall outside.

"Ginny! Hide, now!" Jools whispered, terror in her voice. "Behind the bookcase to your right."

Ginny glanced around, moving automatically to the bookcase. If she knelt down, the edge of the professor's desk would hide her from most of the room. The footsteps paused outside the door and Ginny held her breath. A moment later, the door creaked open and footsteps echoed against the stone of the classroom. Ginny tilted her head just a bit. She still had no idea where Jools might be, but given her hiding place, Ginny suspected she was behind the professor's desk. She could see a shadow as whoever it was moved toward the desk. Ginny took silent, measured breaths and kept her ears open. If she was going to help Jools, she had to know who that person was.

"What do you want?" Jools' voice said, quavering and exhausted at once.

"What I always want," a familiar voice replied. There was a flash of blue light and a sharp cry. Ginny clenched her teeth. She couldn't do anything for Jools if she was discovered here.

"Eat up," the familiar voice went on as Ginny try to control her shivering. "I'll be back for the plate in the morning." The voice harsh laugh. "Sleep tight."

There was a second flash of blue, though not accompanied by any sounds of pain this time. Footsteps echoes toward the door. Ginny could see the shadow following. The door creaked open and the footsteps echoed away down the hall. Ginny give it two minutes before pushing herself unsteadily to her feet. As she did, her pocket burned hot. She shoved her hand in and touched the fake Galleon there. Good, someone else wanted a DA meeting now as well. So much the better.

"Ginny, you have to get out of here!" Jools said desperately.

"I'm going for help," Ginny began.

"No, listen to me!" Jools said. "I don't know what the spell is, but it's powerful. The first time I touched it by accident I was unconscious for almost twelve hours. It extends at least a meter in every direction. And I think it has an alarm on it, in case anyone gets close to me."

"I'm going for help," Ginny repeated, her whole body shaking, though not with fear. She went to look around the edge of the desk. She was careful not to get too close, but she did see what she needed to. Jools, looking completely unlike her usual strong self, sat huddled on the floor, engulfed in a blue glow. Her eyes were sunken, dark shadows slashing each cheek. Chunks of her hair were missing and her wrists, where the poked out of the sleeves of her frayed jumper, were painfully thin. A small plate of food sat beside her, untouched.

Jools looked up at her through watery eyes. "Go! Ginny, please!"

"Listen to me," Ginny said, her voice trembling. She wanted to cry. "I am coming back for you, do you understand me? I'm bringing help." She tried as hard as she could to communicate just how much Jools could trust her.

Jools pressed her forehead into her knees. "This is big. I'm not that important, really, but something huge is going on."

"I know," Ginny said. She tried to smile. "I'm into something big, too, and it's coming to rescue you."

Jools met her eyes and something like hope stirred in her own. "Don't try to do it by yourself," Jools said.

Ginny smiled grimly. "Don't worry. I've got backup."

Jools tried a smile. Ginny's heart ached. "Go now, Gin!" For the briefest moment, Ginny heard in the Ravenclaw's voice the captain she had nominated and adored.

"See you soon!" Ginny promised with new determination. She stood, turned, and dashed from the room, this time with a mind so full she couldn't contain it. She ran, not concerned with how much noise she was making. No one seemed to be around, not even prefects. She reached a tapestry, ripped it aside, and dove up the staircase hidden behind it. The staircase spit her out behind a suit of armor on the seventh floor. The doorway to the Room of Requirement wasn't visible, so Ginny paced three times, thinking of the DA meeting going on within. The doorway appeared and, looking both ways to make sure no one was in sight, she shoved the door open and collapse on the other side.

" – apart from the school-wide lock-down, the Carrow twins are here," Blaise was saying as Ginny staggered forward. "They're moving in tonight and taking over Muggle Studies and Defense Against the Dark Arts tomorrow – "

"Ginny!" Neville cut him off, staring at her as she clutched her chest for breath. "What – are you okay? Where were – "

"I found Jools again," Ginny panted. Her feet carried forward and she fell to the ground in front of the Slytherins. All the running she had been doing suddenly caught up with her and her legs felt like jelly. Her voice gave out as she tried to catch her breath.

"Gin, what – ?" She felt Draco's hands on her arms and Pansy's hand on her back. "Did someone attack you?" Draco demanded. "Who – "

"No, it's not me!" she cried, forcing the words out of her burning throat. She met Draco's eyes. "It's Ananda. Oh, Draco – she's got Jools! It's Polyjuice!"

**)BW(**

_TBC_


	18. The Rescue

A/N: Big fatty apology for the wait on this. Let's not dwell, shall we? Puts me to terrible shame. Do not worry! This is in no danger at all of being abandoned. I love it, it's my baby (my illicit fan fiction baby, anyway) and I'll see it through as I've said many times before. More what I'm realizing now is that it's supposed to rock the Quidditch – basically, I'm making plans to make Quidditch the central focus again. That's important because we're coming up on the last few chapters now. I know, right? CRAZY long journey. Anyway, hope you enjoy, my patient, lovely readers! Lots of D/G, just for you!

Loves,

J.T.

Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.R.'s. Sincerest thanks to the Goddess of pro-fic . . .

**)BW(**

No one spoke. Into the silence, Ginny doubled over.

"What did you say?" Pansy said at last, a little breathless herself.

"It's Polyjuice," Ginny repeated, clutching the stitch in her side and trying to straighten. "I know it. Jools has loads of hair missing and – " She ran out of breath and coughed painfully.

Hands lifted her, forcing her to stand up straight. Pain seared through her middle, but after a moment the muscle relaxed and Ginny took several deep breaths. She suddenly thought of Quidditch and laps and how she used to get terrible stitches in her side. A deeper pang than oxygen-deprived muscle settled in her stomach.

"Sit," Blaise ordered, helping her to a sofa. She sank gratefully onto it. Draco sat on her left, his eyebrows pulled together.

Neville, who took her right side, said, "Start at the beginning, Gin. What happened?"

"We have to get back there," Ginny said, the urgency returning with her breath. "She's trapped up there, has been for ages – "

"We have to know what's going on before we storm the sixth floor," Neville cut her off. "Please, Ginny, tell us everything you know."

Ginny took another deep breath. "I went to the Ravenclaw common room. I was visiting … friends." She glanced at Adrienne, who stood with Lisa and Luna. Adrienne nodded, and Ginny thought she was forgiven for deserting her friend earlier. "I saw Jools in the common room. So did Adrienne, right?"

"Right."

"I left right after Jools came in. It couldn't have taken me more than five or six minutes to get to the sixth floor from Ravenclaw and I was running full-out. There's no way Jools beat me from the common room, even if she found a short-cut." She shivered. "The sixth floor corridor was empty, as usual, and I was curious about the classroom I found Jools in last time so I went to have another look."

"And Jools was there this time?" Neville asked.

"I just heard her voice at first," Ginny explained. "I was going to go make sure it was really her, try to help her, but then there were footsteps so I hid behind a bookcase."

"Why?"

"Jools said someone would hurt me if I didn't," Ginny said, shivering again. "I wanted to help her and I didn't think getting caught would help. I waited and after a minute I heard a voice talking to Jools."

"Ananda's voice?" Draco said. Ginny reached out but he shied away from her.

"I'm sure of it," Ginny said as gently as she could, pulling her hand away. "When she was gone, I went to make sure Jools was there, really there, and that it wasn't some trick. She was there, and she looked – " Ginny swallowed, her eyes burning. "She looked like she had been there for weeks," she said, sitting up suddenly. "She was starved, half bald. We have to help her!"

For some reason, Ginny was expecting a fight.

"Of course we do," Neville said.

"How?" Lisa Turpin asked, though she didn't sound like she was going to argue. "What kind of spell was holding Jools?"

"I have no idea but it sounded like it was a powerful one," Ginny said. "Jools said the one time she touched it, it knocked her out for hours and she thinks it's got an alarm in case someone tries to get her out. If someone else touches it, it alerts the caster."

"If it's Ananda you heard in there," Draco said slowly, "it'll be dark magic she's using. That's a powerful curse, if it really does all that."

"Is there a professor we could ask?" Hannah asked. "Someone with Dark Arts experience?"

"The Carrows start tomorrow," Blaise said grimly. "Professor Jones has been removed, whatever that means, from DADA. I wouldn't go to Snape, although I doubt he has anything to do with it."

"What makes you say that?" Neville asked. Ginny wondered how Neville felt about Snape these days.

"One student? Female Polyjuice?" Blaise shrugged. "Where Snape's sitting, he's going to be a lot more interested in the big picture. Anyway, we're still assuming he's on our side, in which case he totally lacks the motivation."

"There's something else, but I'm worried it might be too late," Ginny said slowly. They hadn't finished questioning everyone yet – she wasn't sure if bringing up the Order of the Phoenix was safe. Still, someone's life was on the line. "I might be able to call for help, to someone outside Hogwarts, but I need access to the Floo network."

"You mean, bring someone here to help?" Neville asked. Their eyes met and she knew he knew what she wasn't saying aloud.

"No, I mean ask for advice or information," Ginny said. "We couldn't bring anyone in. Someone strange shows up ... could be trouble, don't you think?"

"Wait, can't we bring this to Professor Sprout or Professor McGonagall?" Susie cut in.

"We can't risk it – McGonagall answers to Snape now," Ginny said. "She'd have to report it and if for any reason he can't help us, we could tip Ananda off." Just saying it hollowed Ginny's chest and made it ache, but she muscled passed the pang with logic. They didn't have time for anything but action right now. She snuck a look at Draco. He wasn't leaning away from her anymore but his jaw had a tick at one corner. He still hadn't said anything.

"There's a Floo hookup in McGonagall's office," Neville said suddenly. "There's probably one in every office, but I know for sure hers has one. And I think," he added, tapping his chin, "that since Umbridge's reign of terror, McGonagall's been extra careful to keep her part of the Floo unmonitored. There are spells for that."

"We need her away from her office," Ginny murmured.

"Most of the teachers ward their offices at night," Blaise said. Ginny noticed his eyes flicking to Draco, too. "Snape told me once. We have to get her to leave her office during the day."

"We can't leave Jools alone up there," Ginny began, but trailed off. They didn't have a choice.

"First thing in the morning," Draco said. Ginny looked at him in surprise. His jaw was set, his eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, pressing his hands together.

The coach was back.

"The school-wide lock-down will cut off unmonitored Floo access for the entire castle," he went on, an analytical calm in each word. "Even McGonagall's fireplace will be under lock and key. So we go before noon tomorrow. We'll work up a distraction for you, Weasley. It might buy you ten minutes, maybe less. You'll get one call, that's it."

Just like Quidditch. Ginny felt the strategy in her skin; the coordination, the timing, the free-fall of trust.

"I know just the distraction," Millicent said unexpectedly. "It'll empty most of the upper part of the castle."

"No one gets caught, though," Hannah reminded them, eyes wide. "Remember, Death Eaters turn up tomorrow and we can't risk someone getting caught."

"Death Eaters?" Ginny breathed, Quidditch forgotten for a moment.

"Later," Neville promised. "Okay, Bulstrode's got the distraction worked out. I'll help with that. Someone should go with Ginny to McGongall's office."

"We can hang around the halls and sound the alarm if anyone comes too close," Colin offered, nodding to his brother and Jessica Bentley. Jessica gave Ginny a grin.

"When do we go for Jools?" Adrienne asked. Her eyes narrowed. Pushing forward, as Chasers did; preparing the offensive.

"Tomorrow night," Neville said. "It has to be tomorrow night, especially after the Floo call. The clock starts ticking that we'll get caught or that Malfoy's cousin gets panicky and moves Jools."

"Or worse," Adrienne muttered, fists clenched.

"Just make sure one of you prefects is on duty tonight," Ginny said. "In the meantime, I think Terry Boot should come with us to get Jools. He has a right to."

They spent the rest of the meeting laying plans and filling Ginny in about the Death Eaters and the school-wide lock-down Snape was imposing starting at lunch the next day.The Carrows, sibling Death Eaters who had been part of the group to attack Hogwarts before, were coming to take over Muggle Studies and Defense Against the Dark Arts. They were the first and, though none of the Slytherins thought Snape intended to bring any more in for the moment, two were bad enough.

Ginny kept an eye on Draco for the rest of the meeting. He seemed to move through a ruthless place; as when he coach, he isolated prejudice and subjection somewhere inside himself and focused entirely on the good of the team. Even his own well-being took second place to the strategy, the laying of groundwork. He didn't react at all to Ananda's name being mentioned and when he spoke about her himself, he sounded as though he were talking about someone he'd heard of in passing. He pressed forward with planning and strategy to rescue Jools. It was all about the preparation.

The game. The win.

The change, the cold wall of indifference to his own feelings – Ginny sat on her hands to keep from reaching out again. She could see him trying to turn Ananda into a problem he could control, like a Quidditch practice.

"The Carrows are deranged," Draco was saying as they moved from plotting Jools' rescue back to defense against crazed professors. "They spent the summer at my father's manor once, hiding from the Ministry. They were absolutely mad – I spent all my time hiding from them." A fact, not a fear he'd lived with in his own home.

"They won't stick to normal forms of punishment, either," Pansy pointed out. Ginny knew Pansy was watching Draco, too. Ginny met Pansy's eye trying to meet Draco's. Ginny suddenly wondered if the other Chaser was thinking Quidditch now, too. "They'll be allowed to do a lot worse than Filch ever has. Snape won't have a choice. The Dark Lord will be expecting the Carrows to enjoy this job and they won't unless it involves hurting us."

"And this lock-down. What's it mean for the students?" Ginny asked.

"Basically, we can't get in or out without a teacher," Neville said grimly. "No Hogsmeade, no Quidditch, no outdoor lessons."

"Good thing we've got this," Colin said, holding up the Marauder's Map.

"And this," Susie added, gesturing around at the Room of Requirement.

They had the players and the space, Ginny thought bleakly. All they needed now were brooms.

"Nev, I've been thinking," Dean said suddenly. "So far you've got this room to give you whatever you want, right? There's never been anything you asked for that it hasn't been able to give?"

Pansy made a muffled snorting noise and Neville went exceptionally red. Ginny, still watching Draco, saw a smile ghost across his lips. "That's right," Neville said bravely, in the face of Slytherin mockery.

"What about a way out of Hogwarts?" Dean suggested. "Some connection to Hogsmeade, say."

"That's brilliant, Dean!" Neville said, his color fading from maroon to pink. "I'll give it a go just as soon as we get this mess with Malfoy's cousin sorted." He glanced at a roll of parchment that lay on the desk. "We've got a few interviews tonight; no reason not to carry on with those, right, Zabini?"

"Right."

"Something else we need to discuss," Susie said. "We've got Death Eaters in the castle who enjoy tormenting kids. We need to look for ways to protect the younger students."

"Unconventional ways," Blaise put in.

"We wouldn't want to call more attention to them by showing we're protecting them," Luna spoke up. She had spent the meeting so far in silence, staring off into space. "Suppose we be clever?"

"In what way, Luna?" Neville asked. He was one of the few in the room who managed to keep a straight face. Ginny saw another almost-smile cross Draco's face.

"Well, some of the first years think You-Know-Who is the good guy," Luna said, shrugging. "So instead of trying to protect those students, we encourage them."

"Encourage them to follow Voldemort?" Ginny demanded, appalled. Several people gasped, whether at the idea or the name, Ginny didn't know.

"Well, they're not going to be asked into the inner circle, are they?" Blaise said slowly. "And if those kids are actually on the Carrows' side, and Snape's ..."

"The Carrows aren't going to hurt the students who side with them," Pansy said slowly. "But those kids need a leader, someone who can make sure they're safe and encourage them to support the Carrows. Or at least not get in their way."

"I know who I'd pick," Blaise said. "You're the most devious witch in our year, Pans."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Zabini," she said, preening.

"It's not just Slytherin, though," Adrienne put in. "There are plenty of Ravenclaw students below third year who are really confused. The Ministry and their parents say one thing, Dumbledore and their professors say something else. It wouldn't be hard to convince them to play along. They're quite clever, as well, you know."

"Let's have someone from each house make a tally of all the students who might play along or be more likely to side with the Carrows anyway," Neville said. "I'll see to Gryffindor. Adrienne and Luna, will you sort out Ravenclaw?"

"Hannah and I can take Hufflepuff," Susie added. Hannah nodded.

The meeting adjourned soon after, leaving a small contingent to arrange Jools' rescue, and Neville and Dean to try and figure out how to get out of the castle.

Ginny sighed. She sat huddled in a corner with Draco, Blaise, Jessica, the Creeveys, and all the other team girls who were determined to help rescue Jools. She met Draco's eyes once, but he started and looked away. Ginny could see Blaise trying to catch his friend's eye, too, but he didn't seem to be having much luck. Draco edged slowly away from both of them into the crowd of team girls still huddled around.

Ginny blinked moisture from her eyes and wished they were all playing Quidditch.

"Gin, it's your turn for interviewing," Neville reminded her in an undertone as he passed on his way to the desk. "Just after Malfoy. You can wait outside, if you want."

"Right." Ginny took a deep breath.

"It's all right," Neville said, patting her shoulder. "I'm here, you're fine."

"I trust Zabini, too," she murmured, returning the smile. "I just – it's been a rough evening."

Neville gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Were you close to Malfoy's cousin?"

Ginny nodded. "We were really good friends. We were Chasers together on the team."

"What happened?"

Ginny shrugged. "No one knows. I mean, she got the boot from the team because of her parents. A few other girls did, too. But she just changed so completely, almost overnight."

"Nothing apart from the team? Bad day in Charms or something?"

"Nothing." Ginny tried, really tried, to think of something else. There was nothing she knew of, nothing Draco had mentioned. He hadn't talked much about his cousin, it was true, but Ginny hadn't anything from Blaise or Pansy, either.

"Is she being blackmailed?" Neville wondered.

"She acts like she's enjoying making everyone miserable." Ginny winced. "I mean, like it _was_ her choice and she's sticking it to the rest of us."

Neville didn't speak as he reseated himself behind the desk. Blaise joined him. "Draco, you ready to get this over with?"

"Sure," Draco said. His face was a blank slate but very pale. He wasn't ready for Veritaserum and Ginny wanted to tell Blaise to wait, to stop. She glanced around, looking for a reason to stall. The room had emptied while she'd been talking to Neville.

"It's not that bad, I promise," Lisa said quietly from her side. "I was interviewed yesterday."

Ginny turned back to Draco. He stood with Blaise at the desk, white and silent. Luna Lovegood sat quietly nearby, talking to Neville. Draco caught Ginny's eye one, briefly, but she couldn't see beyond the coach into Draco. She tried to smile before stepping out into the hallway. Lisa joined her and they didn't speak as they stood beside the painfully conspicuous door, clutching the Marauder's Map between them and eyeing the dots of prefects moving up and down the corridors below.

Draco and Luna appeared in the hallway a few minutes later. Draco's expression hadn't changed, which wasn't reassuring. He swiped the Marauder's Map in passing and went to lean against the opposite wall. "Your turn."

Luna smiled at Ginny. "Nervous? I was."

"Who's nervous?" Ginny tried another smile that fell a bit flat and Luna bid her a serene good night.

"I'll wait for you," Draco murmured, his eyes on the map.

"Do that," she murmured, following Lisa through the open door.

She swallowed the Veritaserum Neville handed to her in one gulp. She hadn't given this much thought until tonight; giving up her faculties and trusting others not to take advantage. She took another look around her. It was Neville, Lisa, and Blaise. She could handle it.

The interview was quick. Lisa's questions for her were simple and straightforward. Ginny felt comfortable with all her answers and even gratified at the truth of each one. Blaise and Neville kept quiet.

The effects of the Veritaserum wore off quickly and by the time Ginny followed Blaise and Neville into the hallway, she felt fully in control of herself again.

Draco was waiting, leaning against the wall across the corridor.

"I want a word with Weasley," he said without preamble, offering Neville the Marauder's Map. "I'll make sure she gets back okay."

"Gin?" Neville raised his eyebrows.

Ginny nodded, her insides knotting. "We're fine. Go on, Nev."

"Mind if I walk with you, Neville?" Lisa asked, almost timidly.

"Course not." Neville gave her a surprised smile. "Honestly, I'm still a little nervous about walking round this place at night."

Neville gave Ginny's shoulder a pat and left her to it. Blaise waited until he and Lisa disappeared around the corner before stepping into Draco's personal space.

"My best friend is suddenly a zombie and he's going to tell me why." Blaise had him by the shoulders.

"Back off," Draco began, the façade sliding off his face for an instant.

Ginny had obligingly opened the Room of Requirement back up and Blaise muscled Draco through it. Ginny closed the door behind them.

"What the hell, Zabini?" Draco snarled, shrugging his arms off.

"Your cousin was just implicated in abduction and mild torture and potential Dark Arts bad news," Blaise said. "And I can see it's tearing you up. I didn't want to make a scene earlier, but I plan to make one now."

Draco threw a look at Ginny. She crossed the room and took his hand. His fingers didn't respond to the pressure of hers. "I told you he cares about you."

Blaise looked appalled. "You _told_ him? Ginevra!"

"What? It's true," she said, annoyed. "Or you wouldn't be here now." She turned back to Draco. "I'm so sorry about Ananda."

He tried to muscle indifference onto his face and almost succeeded. "I knew she wasn't doing good deeds. Taking in stray puppies, helping the first years."

"She betrayed you," Ginny said.

Draco pulled away from both of them. He moved so the desk was between them and him.

"Just – go away," he said, turning away from them.

"We're not attacking you," Ginny said, trying to backpedal. "But – this must be horrible. We want to help."

"I don't need help."

Blaise opened his mouth, but Ginny caught his arm, shook her head. "Fine. What do you need?"

He didn't say anything.

"Zabini," Ginny said in a low voice. "Can I talk to him alone? I promise to make him talk to you later but I think …"

"Yeah, yeah. It's a girl thing." Blaise rolled his eyes, wished Ginny a goodnight, and left the room. Ginny wanted to roll her own eyes – what was it with boys and feelings?

"What's up?" Ginny asked, turning back to Draco, but barely got the words out before her lips were crushed under his. She tried, somewhere in the haze of Draco that seemed to be everywhere, to think what felt as good as this. Really, all that came to her was flying.

"You're supposed to be talking to me," Ginny panted as she pulled back.

"I don't want to talk," he said, his lips finding her jaw, her ear.

"I can see that." Ginny caught hold of his shirt to keep her balance. She didn't much want to anymore either but it was important. "Come on," she coaxed. "Get off, Malfoy."

He pulled back and tried to have a little sulk.

"I won't make you talk, but she's your cousin."

"Yeah, I knew that." His arms dropped away from her and he started to turn away.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I should have told you first."

"This is too important for that," he began.

"I could have told you," she insisted. "I'm sorry."

He turned back and Ginny saw what he'd locked away during the meeting sparkling in his eyes. "Don't be," he said, sliding his arms around her and pulling her close. "She had it coming. Anyway, you might have saved Jools' life – " He broke off, pressing his face into her shoulder.

"We don't know anything for sure," she soothed in his ear. She remembered thinking Sirius Black was a murderer and then getting to know him one summer. She thought everything seemed straightforward then, too. "Jools didn't look hurt. Just malnourished and a bit bald. I don't think she's being tortured or – "

"Please. Just don't." His voice was muffled in her shirt. "I know you're trying to help, but."

"Just don't. I get it," Ginny said, determined not to be hurt. "Is there anything I can do?"

He pulled back, his eyes clouded, and raised an eyebrow.

She tried an exasperated smile. "All right, all right."

He grinned, his eyes clearing, and Ginny forgot for several minutes why she was there.

"Shame about that night flight," she gasped a few minutes later, pulling back for a breath. Maybe it was comparing snogging Draco to playing Quidditch, but she couldn't get the thought out of her head.

"Night flight?" Draco chest rose and fell rapidly against hers.

"Oh, you forgot," she said, too out of breath to pout.

"No, I didn't," he lied, not at all smoothly. "Not like it matters," he mused. "Since we're in lock-down tomorrow and wouldn't even make it out of the entrance hall."

"Shame," Ginny agreed.

"There are other things we could do," he said innocently, "in the meantime."

Ginny forgot about flying.

**)BW(**

The next morning was dark and cold. The stone felt damp as Draco made his way up from the Slytherin common room to breakfast. His nerves were singing as he neared the entrance hall. Partly, he was exhausted. He'd been out until three with Ginny and he was amazed he'd made it back to Slytherin at all. Part of him was also dreading Ananda. He didn't know what to think or feel about any of it, but he did wish more than ever that he could talk to her. He didn't care of she lied to him about everything. He missed her.

"Keep your hair on, mate," Blaise murmured, to whom he'd eventually and inevitably confessed everything when he'd returned to the common room. "We've got a job to do this morning."

"Yeah, yeah," Draco mumbled. He glanced resentfully at Blaise, who rarely got ruffled about anything, and saw his friend trembling.

"What?" he demanded.

"Amycus Carrow is on my death list," Blaise said. "The last time I saw him, he was looking at my sister. In a looking-at way."

Blaise's sister Aurelia was five years older and a fully trained Auror.

"I'll be helping you keep your hair on, too, mate," Draco said, giving Blaise a nudge.

When they reached the Great Hall, Draco kept his eyes away from the Slytherin table (he had no idea how he'd feel about seeing Ananda first thing) and instead glanced at the Gryffindors. The whole flock of them seemed unusually subdued, but he saw Ginny, Thomas, and Longbottom seated together, putting spoonfuls of porridge determinedly into their mouths. The others around them seemed to be drawing on the good example. Ginny glanced up. He caught her wink before hastily pulling his eyes away. He focused instead on the staff table. He saw the Carrows right away – they were hard to miss in their voluminous robes and their creepy staring round at all the students.

He got a firm grip on Blaise's arm (as Blaise made an alarming growling noise under his breath) and pulled him to Slytherin.

"All set for today?" Draco asked Millicent as he slid in beside her.

"All set," she said cheerfully. Then, for good measure, "I'm all about Charms exams, as you know."

"Good for you," he said, suppressing a smile. "Jess, how are you today?"

Jessica beamed. "I'm delightful. I, too, have a Charms exam."

Blaise relaxed beside Draco, exhaling a slow breath. "How scholastic we are today," he muttered, stabbing ham onto his plate.

Draco turned the conversation to Quidditch and the Tornadoes chances against Puddlemere in the semi-finals. He kept up the steady flow of conversation, pulling as many of the surrounding Slytherins in it as he could. After the Death Eater attack, many of the younger students were happily on speaking terms with him again. As Draco listened to Jessica tearing into poor Daniel Jones for suggesting the Chudley Canons had a chance, Draco took a deep breath and glanced carefully up the table. He didn't see Ananda. He let out a breath, the knot in his chest relaxing. The next chance he got, he swept his eyes carelessly over Ravenclaw. He caught Adrienne Abbot's eye. She gave a minute nod to her right. He saw Jools – or, if Ginny was right, Ananda under Polyjuice – seated several places away from Adrienne. She was muttering into her plate as Terry Boot whispered to her. The knot returned to his chest and Draco pulled his eyes.

"News."

Pansy slid in beside Draco, clutching the headline. She showed the others.

Draco stared, Ananda momentarily forgotten. "I owe you a few Galleons," he said to Blaise.

His friend peered over his shoulder. "Dolores Umbridge new Minister for Magic?" he muttered. "I might be sick with disgust and terror."

"Jesus God," Millicent breathed. "We're all doomed."

"No doubt anymore," Blaise said, catching Draco's eye. Pansy nodded. Now that Draco was looking properly, he saw and heard rustles and murmurs from other tables as copies of the _Prophet_ circulated. He kept his eyes away from Ravelclaw. He didn't want to know what his cousin thought about all this.

"Top of Umbride's agenda, look," Blaise added in an undertone, pointing to a side article.

"Find and detain Harry Potter, possible security threat and madman," Draco said. "Color me shocked."

The paper crumpled between Pansy's fists. Millicent removed the pieces, tossing them back on the table. Then she looked significantly at the large clock that stood behind the teacher's table.

"Come on, I'm not hungry," Blaise said, pushing away from the table. Draco, Millicent, and Pansy followed close behind. When they reached the entrance hall, Draco saw a group of Gryffindors and several Hufflepuffs disappearing up the stairs. He followed Blaise to the dungeon staircase.

"Kitchens," Millicent said under her breath, sliding forward to take the lead. "This is going to take a while." She glanced over her shoulder. "What kept you?"

"Map said we weren't alone." Neville Longbottom's voice, coming from behind the small group, was tense. "You know where you want this done, Bulstrode?"

"We need at least four spots, places where we'll cause a scene," Millicent said.

"Do we want everyone on the ground floor or do we just want to draw people away from McGonagall's room?" Longbottom went on.

"Reckon we'll have more success just drawing people away from McGonagall's office," Adrienne Abbot, following behind, added. "They're more likely to move if it's something close by."

"Agreed," Millicent said. "We'll try something on each floor, shall we?"

"A chain reaction?" Pansy asked.

"Shut up and hide us!" Longbottom hissed suddenly. "Godkin's coming."

Draco and the others fell into a clump around the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, and began talking very loudly about the new professors. They ignored Godkin as they muscled passed him. Draco thought they were very lucky he was alone.

Longbottom didn't speak again until they were at the kitchens. "Coast clear," he said. "I'll go in first. Dobby knows me."

"He knows me, too," Draco said, scowling.

"Yeah, and I don't want him going off this whole plan before I've pitched it," Longbottom retorted. "Wait."

He and Adrienne disappeared passed the portrait, leaving the magical map Potter had given them in Draco's hand.

"Where did Potter get this?" he wondered, searching the map for some kind of brand name. After a moment, thin, fine writing appeared on the back of the map.

_Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs thank Mr. Malfoy for his inquiring mind, and hope that he is using it for the betterment of mankind. It would make for a nice change_.

"Sassy map," Pansy said, giggling.

_Thank you, Miss Parkinson_, the map said. _And may we say you are looking particularly dark and alluring today_.

Pansy giggled some more, Blaise smiled, and Draco glowered.

"I'll just have that back," Longbottom said, swiping the map from Draco's hands. He grinned. "Before you tear it up, Malfoy. It's useful to us."

"Sod you and your bloody parchment," Draco growled. "Are the elves ready for us or shall we frighten their little furry selves?"

"They're ready," Longbottom said. "And glad to help."

The elves were indeed glad to help and eagerly approved Millicent's plan, although they refused to let any of the students do a thing.

"It wouldn't do for Dumbledore's Army to be punished," Dobby explained. "Dobby and his friends will see to everything." Dobby glanced at Draco. "Young Master Malfoy knows how dependable Dobby is."

Draco hesitated. "You – you were always very reliable," he said at last.

Dobby beamed. "You is very generous, Master Malfoy." He looked around. "Come," he said loudly, "food for the resistance movement."

"Charming," Pansy said, snatching the map from Longbottom. "If I knew the good guys got top billing, I'd have joined up years ago."

Draco noticed that as Pansy pressed the map lovingly to her heart, it began arguing with itself, in different scripts, about the appropriateness of being held to a young lady's bosom.

"Pervy map you've got there, Longbottom," Draco said, nodding at it.

Longbottom snorted. "It's not the map; it's the blokes who made it."

"Who were they?" Pansy asked.

Longbottom laughed. "One of them would kill me if I told."

"Maybe we should torture it out of him," Millicent suggested.

"No time for torture," Blaise said. "No time for snacks, either, Pans. We need to get upstairs."

"Dobby, are you sure we can't help?" Longbottom asked.

"Meaning no disrespect, sir, but Dobby is feeling easier if the elves work alone."

"Thanks," Longbottom said reluctantly.

"When you is needing more help, sir, you is coming to the elves," another elf said, giving Longbottom a severe look.

"Of course I am," Longbottom assured him hastily. He tried to take the map back from Pansy, but she kept a firm grip. She held it out so he could see. He rolled his eyes, but leaned over it.

"We're clear if we make a run for the entrance hall."

They did, reemerging in time to split up and head to their first classes.

Draco tried not to look as though he were waiting for something, but he broke two quills in Charms before Blaise kicked his ankle. Irritation at his friend helped calm him down.

His thoughts turned to Ginny and two more quills bit the dust.

**)BW(**

Ginny heard the first explosion as she pretended to make her way to Transfiguration. Right on time; she slid behind a tapestry and watched people scurrying down the hallways away from the source of the noise. She heard second and third explosions, so powerful they rocked the floor. She checked the map.

"Coast clear?"

Even though Ginny had expected the voice that came from the secret passage behind her, she jumped.

"That was more explosions that I thought there'd be," Luna commented, as though explosions were like rain showers.

"I knew Millie would come through," Jessica said, grinning at Ginny as she emerged behind Dennis and Colin.

"What kinds of explosives did she use?" Ginny asked with clinical interest.

"Flour barrels."

"Excuse me?"

"Get the details later, Gin. Map says we've got a clear shot at McGonagall's office," Colin said, examining it carefully. "Let's go."

They ran, Ginny guiding them with the Marauder's Map, which Millicent had handed off to Jessica earlier that morning, apparently under desperate protest from Pansy. The explosions continued, rocking the floor.

"I though she said four barrels of flour," Colin called to Jessica over the noise.

"She did," Jessica called back. "Looks like the house-elves are playing it safe."

The corridor outside McGonagall's office was deserted.

"Reckon she put up any wards before she left?" Dennis asked. He grinned his unsettling, manic grin. "Shall I test it for you, Ginny?"

"Er – I guess, if you're sure," she began, but Dennis was already pacing toward the door. He passed through, was out of sight a moment, and then came back. "Nothing," he said cheerfully. "Give us the map and get in there."

"Remember, ten minutes," Colin said. "We'll pull you out if anything goes wrong."

"Right." Ginny took a breath before stepping into McGonagall's office and heading for the fire. The Floo powder was on the mantle and she pulled a small pinch out, careful to level the remaining powder so McGonagall wouldn't notice any missing. She tossed it into the fire.

"Shell Cottage!" she called, sticking her head in. There was the usual dizzying spin and she had a moment's doubt. When her vision cleared, she was relieved to see two figures moving about the kitchen.

"Ginny!" Bill said, dropping down before the kitchen fire. "What's – is everything okay?"

"We have many, many problems," she cut him off, trying to remember the most critical and trying not to let her delight at seeing him distract her.

"What, at Hogwarts?"

"Where else?" Ginny took a breath. "Look, the Order probably knows most of it but right now I need something else. There's a powerful dark curse that's – " She tried to think of how best to explain. "A friend needs our help and we need to break a dark curse without the caster knowing we've broken it."

"What does it look like?" The nice thing about Bill was that he could sense when it was time to focus and when it was time to be her big brother.

"It's shimmery and blue," Ginny told him. "My friend said she touched it and it knocked her out for hours. She also thinks that touching it alerts the caster that someone is near." She frowned, trying to think of every detail. "I think the caster can reach through it without triggering it as well." She remembered that food had been inside with Jools.

"Eet is dark magic?" Fleur piped up, kneeling down beside her husband.

"Seems like it – why?"

"Eet is very like a French eencantation we use to protect our 'omes when we are away," she said, frowning.

"It could be a variation on a basic protection charm," Bill murmured. "Is it around a thing or a person?"

"Person." Ginny winced, hoping he wouldn't come over all protective.

Bill glanced at Fleur. "This spell you place on houses. What's the incantation?"

Fleur said something lovely in French. Bill grinned, tweaked her nose.

"Bill, I'm in a hurry," Ginny snapped, realizing she was nearing the end of her ten minutes.

"Look, why don't I just drop by?" he began. He waved his wand at the fire. "The connection is strong – it could carry me through."

"We're using this Floo without permission," Ginny said urgently. "No time! We need to know how to break the curse."

Bill was starting to look worried. "Shall I alert the Order?"

"Not about this, it could make things worse," Ginny said. "But tell them," she added quickly, "that there are Death Eaters teaching at Hogwarts and things are going to get very bad very soon." Ginny heard a noise behind her. "Bill, anything! I'm out of time!"

"Try Fleur's spell," he said.

"I can't remember it!" she wailed.

"'Ere, Ginny." Fleur stuck a piece of parchment in Ginny's teeth.

"If that doesn't work, try any kind of siphoning charm," Bill said quickly. "Siphon the spell onto another object. If a student cast the spell, it won't be sensitive to the person it's guarding, just that it needs to have an object. Siphon it onto a desk, a chair, anything."

"Got it," Ginny said around the paper. She suddenly wanted to cry. "Fanks, Bill. Fleur."

"I'll get the Order on Hogwarts, Gin," Bill said grimly. "Take care of yourself. Be safe."

"I love you," she said. "Bye, Fleur."

"Be careful, Ginny!" her sister-in-law cried before Ginny was yanked backward out of the fire.

"We have to get out of here!" Colin said, pulling her back toward the door. "Jessica and Luna and Dennis are causing more distractions, but – "

They arrived outside just in time, Ginny tucking the parchment with the charm into her pocket.

"I sent all the Gryffindors to the Great Hall, Miss Weasley, Mr. Creevey!" Professor McGonagall was striding down the hall.

"Sorry, ma'am," Colin said. "I couldn't find Dennis and – oh, jolly, here he is!"

Dennis came skidding around the corner. Jessica and Luna had mercifully vanished.

"Dennis, I've been so worried!" Colin said, shaking his finger at his brother.

"Sorry, I thought there might be mutant spiders again," Dennis said brightly. He forced an unconvincing frown onto his face. "Which would have been horrible, obviously."

"We're just going to the Great Hall," Ginny cut in, hauling the squabbling brothers off and tucking the Marauder's Map down her robes simultaneously. She could feel McGonagall's eyes one their backs.

"Did you get it?" Colin demanded as soon as they were around the corner.

"There are two ways," Ginny said. "Do we have time to go now?"

"Can't risk it," Colin said. "The others are already in the hall and there's probably a head count. They'll notice if we're missing."

They came skidding into the Great Hall just in time to sit down with a few straggling Gryffindors.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked Neville, leaning close.

"Snape wants us all here 'for our safety,'" he said, making large quotation marks in the air with his fingers. "He really wants to take a head count, find out who's missing because they're obviously the ones who set off the bombs."

"That's idiotic logic," Ginny said blankly.

"I know," Neville said. "But the Carrows don't."

Ginny hid a smile and did a surreptitious head count of her own. She couldn't see any of the DA missing, although she was vaguely amused to see Draco and Pansy amidst an audience of Slytherins, holding forth about the dangers of the school and how Draco's father was going to hear all about it.

Ginny suddenly wondered about Ananda. Who would she be, herself or Jools? Ginny scanned Ravenclaw, then Slytherin.

Ananda sat with Gus Godkin's arm round her shoulders, shaking and crying for all she was worth. Ginny grimaced. She wondered if implicating Jools meant that Ananda didn't intend to use her for Polyjuice anymore. It was hard to tell. Clearly, Ananda had to make a choice. She was throwing away what was apparently a valuable asset in getting to be two different people, but at the same time, Ginny could see Flitwick, Jools' head of house, making some excuse about the hospital wing to protect a student from the Carrows. She was sure Madam Pomphrey would corroborate anything the heads of house said to protect their students and if Snape really was on their side, he wouldn't force the issue.

Snape stood. The Great Hall went suddenly and completely silent as every eye turned to the teacher's table.

"We have a problem," Snape said, his smooth voice washing the room with a shivering calm that Ginny always associated with Potions class. "I don't know who caused it, but believe that I will find out."

Ginny looked down, feeling suddenly exposed. Neville squeezed her hand and Parvati put her chin on Lavender's shoulder. Dennis and Colin stared defiantly up at the headmaster. Ginny wished they wouldn't.

"We've taken a count of all students present and a few are indeed missing," Snape said. "For your safety, remaining morning classes are canceled and heads of houses will escort their students back to the common rooms. Teachers will patrol the corridors and prefects will keep order in the common rooms."

"And that's the most convenient thing that's ever happened to me," Neville said in Ginny's ear. She grinned, gripping his hand and trying not to wish it were someone else's.

**)BW(**

Though classes resumed in the afternoon and no one in the DA had been implicated in the flour bombings yet, Ginny's skin crawled and her mind whirled for the rest of the day. She took copious notes, tried to focus on homework, and hardly ate at dinner. She would leave Gryffindor to meet Draco and Terry (both fortunately prefects) later that night. With the Marauder's Map and the seventh years paired for prefect patrol, it wouldn't be too hard to meet up without getting caught. Still, she thought of how lucky they'd been so far. What went down on the sixth floor later would be much bigger and badder than calling her brother.

She went to bed early, curled up with the hangings closed and a book open in her lap. She waited until the sounds of her dorm mates became the soft breath of sleep. Then she slid, fully dressed, from her bed and into the slippers waiting beside it. She pulled out her wand and the Marauder's Map, waiting until she was in the deserted common room to light the former. She activated the DA coin in her pocket and watched the little dots reading "Terry Boot" and "Draco Malfoy" change direction.

The seventh floor corridor was deserted so Ginny stood outside, tense and shivering in her latest Weasley jumper. Her eyes bounced between Terry and Draco and the little dot on the sixth floor that red "Julia Boot."

She didn't have to wait long.

"Trouble?" Draco asked, drawing level. He didn't hug or kiss her, but he gave her hand a squeeze.

"No, we're clear," Ginny assured him. "Hi, Terry."

"Ginny." He gave her a small smile. "Let's go get my sister."

Ginny took a last look at the Marauder's Map. The sixth floor corridor was still deserted, with no sign of anyone approaching it.

"Let's go."

She led them along the seventh floor corridor to a passage behind a painting of a giraffe and a gorilla. The staircase to the sixth floor was cramped and cob-webby but the coast on both ends was clear. Ginny slid into the sixth floor corridor and led the way to the room she now remembered well. She eased the door of the classroom open and slipped inside. "Jools?" she called.

"Ginny, I told you not to come back!"

"Jools!" Draco only just caught Terry as he leapt forward toward the desk behind which Jools was concealed.

"Stop it, you prat, do you want to ruin everything?" Draco panted and Ginny put herself in front of the struggling Ravenclaw.

"If you trigger the alarm on the barrier, Ananda shows up and we don't save Jools," she said, trying to make eye contact. "Please, Terry. Calm down so we can get her out."

Terry took a deep breath and stopped struggling.

"Ginny, what have you done?" Jools demanded.

Draco, sensing it was safe, let go of Terry. The boys moved carefully forward around the desk. There was a strangled gasp from Draco and a sudden dry sob from Terry.

"Hey, Draco," Jools said, her voice rough. "I hear I've been extra horrid to you lately."

"I can take it," Draco said, his voice hoarse. Ginny wanted to reach out to him. She knew what he was feeling.

"Jay, what happened to you?" Terry demanded, falling to his knees beside the barrier.

"Oh, you know," Jools said, smiling faintly. "Haven't had much to do lately – Terr, don't cry!"

"I'll kill that bitch!" he swore, his fists clenching.

"Come on, we have to get this spell down," Ginny said firmly, tugging his arm. "Terry, we can kill bitches later." She glanced at Draco, but she didn't think he was feeling particularly defensive of his cousin currently. His entire focus seemed to be Jools' cage.

"She's right," Draco said, putting a hand on Terry's hunched shoulder. "Come on, Boot, let's get to it."

"Terry, will you keep an eye on the map?" Ginny asked. "That way you can keep Jools company on the floor while Malfoy and I sort out this spell. If we trip the alarm," she added, hunching over and showing him the map, "at least one of these names is going to move toward our names here," she indicated the classroom where their names floated, "very, very fast."

"Got it," Terry said. He seated himself as close to the barrier as he could, crossing his legs and holding the map up for Jools. Ginny could see tears glistening on his cheeks as he talked quietly to his twin, explaining the map to her and making her smile by pointing out Snape in the loo and Peeves creeping up outside the door.

"So, Weasley," Draco said as they stood aside. Ginny noticed how his shoulders hunched, how his eyebrows pinched together. "Let's crack this spell."

"My brother and his wife told me two possible ways," she said, explaining them. Draco frowned over each one.

"Siphoning could work," he said, watching the barrier around Jools dance and flicker. "I don't reckon your sister-in-law's spell will, just because I'm sure this is dark magic."

"Even if siphoning works, I'm worried the curse might recognize that it's not around a person anymore, even if it isn't sensitive to a specific person."

"So create a warming spell around the desk," Terry suggested from the floor. "If you can get it within range of a human's body temperature …"

Draco had already drawn his wand, aiming at the nearest student desk. "Stand next to it," he told Ginny. "Tell me what it feels like."

Ginny stood by the desk and after a moment, the air around her seemed to throb with heat. She felt herself beginning to sweat under her robe. "Think that's good," she said, stepping quickly away. The sudden chill was welcome, though she gave a shiver.

"Okay," Draco said slowly, still pointing his wand. He murmured something. "Yeah, it's right at 37 degrees. It should hold for a few hours at least. Plenty of time for us to get away."

"Do you know any transference or siphoning charms?" Ginny asked.

"Siphoning spells? I know a good one," Terry spoke up. He was looking at them over the map. "I did an extra credit Charms project last term."

"I'll take the map," Ginny volunteered.

Terry glanced at his twin. "We'll have you out soon."

"I know," she said. She glared at Ginny. "Even though I told Ginny – "

"Oh, like we'd leave you here!" Ginny retorted, rolling her eyes and taking up the map.

"Sounds to me like I deserve it," Jools said heavily.

"You didn't do anything," Ginny said. As the boys began to argue over the logistics of the spell, Ginny knelt beside Jools' prison.

"Ananda's told me how she's been treating you," Jools said, her eyes suddenly full of tears. "How she ratted you to the whole team, how the team's split up – "

"Because Snape is headmaster!" Ginny insisted. "Anyway, that wasn't you, was it?"

Jools shook her head, still miserable.

"How long have you been here?" Ginny demanded.

"Since I saw you and the coach," Jools said. "I was so upset, I just took off. I didn't want to see anyone so I came up here, because I knew the corridor wasn't being used. I didn't see anyone behind me, but a spell hit me and the next thing I knew I was up here."

"I want you to know," Ginny said, and with feeling, "that at the time there really was a misunderstanding. Malfoy and I were teasing – we were making fun of someone, a friend of ours. It was a joke."

"And now?" Jools asked.

Ginny couldn't lie to her, so she kept her mouth shut and stared at the floor.

"There's no team anymore," Jools murmured. "I shouldn't – I mean – "

"I'm so sorry," Ginny whispered.

"I'm the one who should be sorry." Jools took a deep breath. "I was angry and – but it's not my place. You're not doing anything wrong."

Ginny was about the answer when Draco said, "Weasley, back up. We're ready to try the spell."

Ginny's eyes flew back to the map. They were in luck – there was still no one on or near the sixth floor corridor. "Go ahead," she said, getting to her feet.

"Get behind me," Draco ordered. "I don't want the spell accidentally latching onto you."

Ginny threw an involuntary look at Jools. The Jools Ginny was used to (Ananda, Ginny reminded herself) would have flinched or sneered or glowered. The Jools in the middle of the blue glow didn't react at all. Her eyes were fixed on her brother with a look Ginny knew well. It was a look deeper than trust, stronger than friendship.

"Let's get you out," Terry said, raising his wand.

"Boot needs me to support the spell on this side," Draco explained to Ginny. "Keep on that map, and if you see anyone, tell us quietly or we might lose control."

"Got it," Ginny said, with a final look at the map. She couldn't see any cause for alarm. "Go ahead, we're clear."

Draco and Terry pointed their wands at the blue enclosure. Jools closed her eyes.

The siphoning spell's incantation was long and involved. Terry murmured and Draco stood with his wand out, waiting. After a few moments, a beam of orange light shot from Terry's wand. It seemed to probe the enclosure, as though finding a place to grip. Then the blue shimmer began to shake, as though being unstuck. Terry coaxed a thin stream of the blue spell with his wand and it trailed after. He pulled slowly, like trying to unstick Spell-O Tape from parchment without ripping it. He tugged gently, guiding the blue stream toward the desk. The spell hesitated when it came in contact with the new heat source Draco had created around the desk. It hung in the air, shivering like a curious snake.

Ginny held her breath.

Then the spell trembled and retracted, snapping back around Jools.

"Damn it!" Terry swore.

"It's probably alerted Ananda," Ginny breathed, diving for the map. She looked and her heart gave a painful beat.

"Ananda's in the dungeons, but she's coming toward us," she said. "Fast."

"The siphon was working," Draco insisted. "You were just too gentle, Boot. We don't have time. We'll have to rip it off her."

"Will it hurt her?" Terry demanded.

"I don't know, but Ananda won't be coming alone so let's move!" Draco snarled, raising his wand. They began to siphon again, this time with jerky, forceful movements. Ginny kept her eyes on the map. Patches of spell tore away from around Jools, leaving holes in the spell.

"All we need is a small hole at the bottom so she can slide through," Ginny said. "A fast one!" she added. "Filch is coming, too!"

Draco and Terry kept pulling, tossing the discarded bits of spell onto the desk. The pieces took to the desk and didn't snap back like the first time. Soon, a small hole in the blue glow began to form.

"Can you slide through without touching the sides?" Draco asked her. "I don't think we can risk a spell to help you – it might react badly with the existing spell."

"I – it's been weeks since I stood up," Jools said, her eyes wide.

Ginny stared at the hole the boys had made. It was small – large enough for Jools, but not for someone to help her out.

Draco tore away another piece of the spell. "It's too well bonded," he said. "This is the best we've got. Boot, you want to do it?"

Terry was already at the very edge of the spell. He stretched out on his stomach and reached through the hole to his sister. Jools grabbed his hand. It was like Muggle fishing, Ginny thought, watching as Jools was slowly reeled out on the end of her twin's arm, uncurling so she wouldn't touch the edges of the hole. Ginny turned her attention to the map, not daring to look anymore.

"Too close, too close," Terry chanted as he pulled. With a final tug that Ginny caught out of the corner of her eye, Jools came free. Terry and Draco pulled her upright.

Speaking of too close: "They're on the fifth floor," Ginny snapped. "Come on, we have to run for it!"

The boys, supporting Jools between them, hurried out of the classroom behind Ginny. Ginny gripped the map, trying to study it and run at the same time.

"We have to hide!" Draco said, panting with the effort of running and holding Jools up. "We'll never make it to a common room without being caught." Ginny threw a glance at them. Jools hadn't been kidding – she was clearly having trouble keeping her legs from simply dragging on the floor and slowing them down even more.

"Where do we hide?" Ginny demanded, trying to watch the map and the hallway at the same time. "Anywhere we go, there'll be questions. We can't risk getting caught." She caught his furious look. "Because we could give the DA away, not because I'm scared!" she snapped. "If the Carrows use Veritaserum … Draco, we've got too many secrets! We need to disappear. All of us! Before she sees …"

"The Room of Requirement!" Terry cut in. He knew the DA was still using it from Luna and Adrienne, who had taken to giving him a crash course on the current DA.

"Perfect, it's only a floor up," Draco panted. He and Terry were almost carrying Jools between them. "Gin, are we clear if we take the stairs?"

"No, but there's a secret passage just off the stairway," Ginny said, hanging onto Draco's arm to keep from tripping. "Filch is coming up the steps but we'll just make it if we rush." Her eyes widened. "Wands out, Ananda's right behind us."

"Knox," they all hissed, hugging the wall to keep from tripping. They skidded to a halt and Ginny kicked the wall just where it met the floor. A small section of it fell away, revealing the opening of a narrow staircase. They clambered up the steps, Ginny hoping the wall would seal itself behind them but not trusting it.

"Gin, get ahead of us," Draco panted. "You have to get the room sorted before we get there or we won't make it."

Ginny's lunges were already screaming but she forced her way passed them and pushed herself further, faster. She exploded out onto the seventh floor. Another moment and she was before the familiar stretch of wall.

_We need a place__ to hide where no one will find us, _she thought, pacing. _A place to hide that's comfortable._ She couldn't think anything more complicated and hoped it would be enough. The door appeared just as Draco, Terry, and Jools came into view. Ginny glanced at the map and her blood froze. Three dots labeled Argus Filch, Mrs. Norris, and Ananda Malfoy were bearing down on them.

"Run!" Ginny hissed, holding the door of the room open. "Hurry!"

Terry scooped Jools right off her feet and hurtled down the corridor. Draco kept behind him, throwing looks over his shoulder. Ginny could see the dots converging fast on them on the map. Terry threw himself and his twin through the door, Draco on their heels. Ginny slammed the door and threw the deadbolt set into it. They all stood gasping on the other side, wands drawn. They waited for another two minutes in silence before Ginny remembered to check the map.

They had made it. The dots labeled Ananda Malfoy, Argus Filch, and Mrs. Norris were moving rapidly away in the same direction. Undoubtedly, Filch had either seen Ananda or she'd found him in order to catch them.

Terry suddenly collapsed. Draco and Ginny only just caught Jools as she made to tumble bonelessly out of his arms. The boys looked as though they couldn't have moved anymore to so much as lift their wands, so Ginny put all her Quidditch strength behind the effort and carried Jools to a four-poster bed that stood nearby. Jools' eyes were already closed when Ginny lowered her onto the white duvet. Her breathing was even and slow, Ginny saw with relief, her chest rising and falling at regular intervals. Ginny leaned heavily against the bed, glancing at the boys. They had pushed themselves to their feet and staggered to the bed. Terry stared down at his sister, his eyes glittering as he ran a hand over her patchy hair.

"Thank you," he said, not looking at the others. "You probably saved her life."

Ginny nodded, took Draco's hand, and pulled him away.

"Should we go back to our dorms?" Ginny murmured as she sank onto a red sofa that sat before a roaring fire.

"We've only got one map," Draco pointed out, falling onto the sofa beside her and examining the map she was still holding. "We'd have a job of it getting back to three different common rooms. And look," he added grimly, "Ananda's with the Carrows right now."

"You think they caught her?" Ginny demanded, thinking of what he'd said earlier about the Death Eater twins.

"No," he said grimly. "She's too smart to getcaught. I think she went to them for help."

"Do you reckon she recognized us?"

Draco scowled. "No idea, but we're stuck here until we know for sure."

Ginny stared at him in horror and saw, what was worse, a twitch under the grim certainty. She suddenly felt ashamed of herself. Here she was, fussing about getting in trouble, and Draco's cousin ...

"I'm so sorry, Draco," she whispered again, leaning against him and pressing her hand against his.

"I don't understand," he murmured. The words sounded involuntary. He hadn't spoken to her about Ananda the night before when she and Blaise had tried to stage an intervention but now he seemed unable to keep it to himself. She felt him shake his head. "I just – I don't understand."

"No one does," she agreed gently.

They sat in silence for a long few minutes, staring into the fire. "Could I have done something?" he asked at last, helpless.

Ginny's heart twisted in her chest. She remembered her mother saying the same thing to her father about Percy. She remembered Bill and Charlie talking about how they could have looked out for him more when they were all kids. She remembered thinking how blind love and loyalty to family could make you. Choices were choices – people made them and other people couldn't control that.

"You could have locked her away somewhere and not let her do anything ever again," Ginny said at last, rubbing his hand between both of hers. "You can't make people's choices for them. You were good to her, as good to her as you were to the rest of us. She made her choice. It's not your fault or your responsibility."

He sat staring into the fire. "I know I should feel better, but – "

"Should, nothing," Ginny said. "Family is always the exception."

"You know, Gin, Granger always gets credit for being the brains in Gryffindor," he said, turning to look at her with something like respect. "I guess that makes you the old wise man." He grinned a little, which lightened Ginny's heart by about a stone. "Tell me, do they have a dais for you? Do you wear white robes?" His eyes glittered wickedly. "Are you secretly bald?"

Ginny snorted, slapping the hand still clasped in hers. "Cheeky missus."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Hair is getting a bit long, there, _coach_."

"Millions and billions and trillions of laps, Weasley," he said, raising challenging eyebrows. "Go on, make my day."

Ginny shook her head, laughter bouncing around her belly. "My mum calls me 'cheeky missus' when I'm smart with her. So, pretty much every day at home."

"Does she have special names for your brothers?"

"Ron's 'naughty little laddy,' and oh, my god!" Ginny slapped both hands over her mouth. "He's going to absolutely kill me when he's back!"

"Please," Draco said, rocking back and forth with laughter. "Tell me Potter has a nickname."

"We're through here," Ginny said, shaking her head. "Because I don't want Ron and Harry to kill me twice when they get home. I'm going to find somewhere to kip for the night so I don't say any more stupid things to you." She sat up, glancing toward the bed. Despite all the noise they'd been making, Jools lay exactly where Ginny had left her, spread eagle and snoring faintly. Even in sleep, she was obviously deliriously happy to have so much space to move. Terry was curled up beside her, asleep and still in his glasses. He clutched Jools' hand to his chest.

Ginny smiled, her throat burning with sudden and inexpressible relief as the night returned in a rush. The DA had finally done something real. She remembered how she had felt the first time, back in fourth year, when Fred and George had had their tremendous send-off. She had felt the same then: _w__e're doing something, we're making a difference_.

She was looking around for another sofa or a pouf when she noticed the thick rug just beyond the hearth. Smiling and thinking of many winter nights at the Burrow, she pulled a sofa cushion with her onto the floor and curled up. Her eyes slid shut. A moment later, she felt a pair of arms around her, lips against her jaw.

"Do you mind?" Draco's breath tickled her ear.

"Long as you don't snore," she said, smiling sleepily at him. She sighed as he kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks.

"How dare you suggest that I snore? _Cheeky __m__issus_," he said into her hair.

Ginny hummed, reaching instinctively for him and pressing her face into his neck. Then she slapped the back of his head.

"Ow!" He pulled back so he could scowl at her. "That was uncalled for."

"Don't be a smart-arse," she said, leaning closer so her face could be in his neck again. It smelled delicious. "Hold me," she ordered, the words slurred as a blanket of exhaustion draped over her.

"I thought I was," he said, kissing her temple and curling his arms around her back.

"Tigher," she said, and then she slept.

**)BW(**

Draco tried not to wake her up the next morning but she was on his arm, which had gone to sleep. When he tried to pull it free, she blinked and lifted her face to his. Her sleepy, "Morning, _coach_," made him dizzy.

He grinned a little, still groggy, and kissed her nose. He pulled his arm out from under her and sat up, shaking it out. He kept close, comforted by her sleep-warm body curled beside his. She groaned a grouchy person groan and pressed her face into his leg. She curled her arms around his knees and cuddled them. It would have been quite distracting if it hadn't been so totally ridiculous.

He ran a tentative hand over her hair, enjoying the thick bright strands against his fingers. Even in the dying embers of the fire, the short red curls threw off twinkles of gold. Ginny hummed and cuddled his legs a bit more.

"Gin, I need those back," he said.

"Have 'em later," she grumbled. Under protest, she rolled onto her back. Unlike the last time he'd been this close to her, she wasn't wearing four layers of winter clothing. Her white oxford was visible beneath her school robe and was quite enticingly unbuttoned. Ginny caught him looking, gave him the cheekiest smile, and stretched lazily. Draco glared at her.

"And what a morning," she said, ceasing her unnecessary lolling about on hearth rugs and sitting up. As her robe fell closed, Draco glanced toward the bed. Terry Boot was still out cold, as far as Draco could see, but Jools was propped up against the backboard, staring at the wall. Draco tried for a moment to analyze her expression. She already seemed so different from the Jools Ananda had played. Her expression was soft, though roughened by weeks of captivity and malnutrition. She looked hardened, but not unkind. Draco thought of all the things Ananda had done, all the ways she had warped and distorted the goodness of the real Jools. He gritted his teeth.

"Jools!" Ginny was suddenly across the room, throwing her arms around her friend and clinging to her. Draco blinked, amazed when he heard her sob.

"Gin, it's okay. I'm okay," Jools said, staring wide-eyed at Draco over Ginny's shoulder. Draco got a shock when he looked at Ginny's body beside Jools'. They were almost the same height with a similar build, but Jools looked small, shriveled next to the redhead.

"I'm so glad you're safe!" Ginny wailed, effectually waking Terry from a sound sleep.

"Attack!" he mumbled, feverishly pushing himself onto his elbow and fumbling in his robes. A moment later, he pulled his wand free, fumbled, and dropped it on the floor. He swore and dove after it.

Jools laughed. A rusty, disused laugh, but a real one. The sound was familiar and warmed Draco's chest.

"It's okay, Terr," Jools said, still holding a sobbing Ginny. "Just a hysterical Chaser; I can handle it." She frowned. "I'm bloody starving."

"We'll fetch you something from the kitchens," Draco said. "You stay in bed and – "

"Will you stay with me, Ginny?" Jools asked, almost timidly. "I mean," she added, "I've been alone for weeks and – "

Ginny burst into tears with renewed force, her face in Jools' robes.

"I'll go fetch you something," Draco corrected himself, rolling his eyes and reaching for the map. His neck was stiff from sleeping curled around Ginny and he cracked it a few times. He wondered how it would feel to have Ginny worked the kinks out for him.

"I don't know if you should go," Ginny said slowly, hiccupping as she pulled herself off Jools' neck. "We don't know if we were seen last night."

"Take Terry with you," Jools suggested helpfully. Her brother glared at her. She smiled innocently back.

"Should we call the rest of the DA?" Ginny suggested. "Share our glory with others and so on?"

Draco pulled out his pocket watch. "They're all at breakfast but now's as good a time as any. We can send some of them for food."

"And find out if there's any word about us being seen last night," Ginny added.

"And find out if Ananda's still running around in my body," Jools muttered, rubbing her patchy head. "And get someone to get a hair regrowth serum from Madam Pomphrey. I look like a prat."

"You look beautiful," Ginny said tearfully, patting the bald spots on Jools' head. Jools threw a martyred look at Draco.

"What happens if Ananda knew it was us last night?" Draco said, suppressing a smile. He'd forgotten how close Jools and Ginny had been before Ananda.

"We stay here," Terry said.

The smile dropped from Draco's face.

"What?" Jools stared at him, her hollow eyes wide. "Like, permanently? You can't be serious!"

"No, he's right." Ginny dabbed her eyes with her sleeve. "If Ananda gave our names to the Carrows, they'll have word out for us. They'll also be looking for you, Jools. Imagine if Ananda found you or if she does something horrible in your body that implicates you." She thought about the flour bombs and how Jools had been unaccounted for.

"We don't know enough to get safely out of here," Terry went on. "And hey, there are worse places to hole up."

"Let's call a DA meeting now," Ginny pressed. "It's a good idea; we can get information and decide what to do."

She palmed her fake Galleon and a moment later, Draco felt his own coin throb in his pocket. He wanted to speak, to put a stop to ridiculous ideas about staying holed up in the stupid Room of stupid Requirement. He couldn't think of an immediate argument, so he touched the coin to deactivate it and thought of something else. "Hang on – are the others going to be able to find the room?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he said, "we're using it now. Can you find the room if someone else is using it?"

"They won't be able to," Ginny said grimly. "Last night, I asked it to be a place that was comfortable and where no one would find us."

"Damn," Jools said. "We're going to have to leave after all."

"Not for long," Draco said, thinking fast. "All we need to do is leave and give the room specific instructions to reopen in a certain way."

Ginny studied the map, scowling. "Nev, Lavender, and Parvati are close, but so is bloody Godkin."

"Disgusting prick," Jools agreed, her lip curling.

"Sources say you were kissing him a few days ago," Ginny said slyly, nudging her.

"Oh, vile!" Jools' nose wrinkled. "Wash, wash, never clean." She shuddered. "Maybe I won't mind hiding out here after all."

They were in luck, Draco saw as he leaned over Ginny's shoulder. Godkin took off toward the sixth floor, leaving a tenuous window. Filch was on the prowl and evidently Amycus Carrow was out with Snape for a morning stroll on the fifth floor, heading for the stairs. If they decided to go up …

"We have to do it now," Draco decided. "Jools, can you walk?"

"With a little help," she said. Terry immediately offered his shoulder and Jools leaned on him experimentally. She seemed pleased with the result. "Okay, let's go." She glanced at Draco. "When we get the Quidditch team back up, I'm going to need about a thousand laps before I'm fit to fly."

"See, Weasley?" Draco said smugly. "Some people appreciate laps."

"Sod right off," Ginny said, giving Jools another shoulder to hold onto if she needed. Her eyes roved over the map. "It's going to be a small window. Which of us should reset the room?"

"I reckon Terry should," Jools said. "He's clever and he used to do it in the old DA days."

"Longbottom's supposed to be the 'Room Whisperer' or something," Draco said slowly. "Is he close enough? Otherwise we might have to do it again later."

"No, he's having to avoid most of the fifth floor so he won't be here in a safe amount of time," Ginny said. "It's got to be one of us."

They stood in a tense huddle while Terry paced in front of the wall. Draco gave Jools his shoulder, keeping an arm around her waist in case her tentative strength gave out. Ginny's eyes stayed on the map. Draco didn't need her to read aloud – her shoulders tensed and relaxed with every movement.

"There, should be good enough," Terry said. "I asked for – "

"That's lovely, we need to go in now." Ginny gave Terry a shove toward the door. "Unless we're asking Snape and Carrow for tea."

They beat a hasty retreat, only relaxing when the door was shut. "I was saying," Terry started again with an annoyed look at Ginny. "I set the room to be accessible only to people with the same aims as ours. That, for the moment, should include the DA." He frowned. "I don't think it'll include Snape, but …"

"That's clever," Ginny said, probably by way of apologizing for interrupting him earlier.

The other DA members began arriving a minute later.

"Nearly ran into Filch," Longbottom said. "Welcome back, Boot!"

"Jools!" Parvati Patil, leading half the team, leapt at the captain, dragging her off to the bed and crying as hysterically as Ginny. The rest of the team joined her – even Pansy gave her a grudging smile and dabbed at her eyes. "You look a fright, Boot," she said. "I'd best bring you a potion from Pomphrey."

"Right, let's get to it!" Longbottom said, by way of calling the meeting to order. "As we can all see, the rescue attempt was successful."

A round of cheers and weeping went up.

"The unintentional consequence," Terry called over the noise, "is that the four of us," he indicated himself, Ginny, Jools, and Draco, "think we were seen by Malfoy's cousin and implicated in some way to the Carrows. We think she saw us and went straight off to them to turn us in."

Low murmurs began all over the room. "Has anyone heard anything?" Longbottom asked.

"I heard Godkin carrying on about Gryffindors being caught out of bed last night," Pansy said.

"People noticed when Terry didn't come back to Ravenclaw," Adrienne added from her perch beside Jools. "And there's some talk of him being in trouble with Snape."

"No one said anything about Draco," Millicent said slowly. "But Ananda came in and asked if anyone had seen him last night."

"We all noticed that Ginny hadn't come back," Parvati said. "No one said anything about it, though."

"That settles it," Blaise said. "You have to stay here until we know what's being said."

"If you lot haven't been implicated and they notice you've gone missing, though," Luna Lovegood said, staring at a spot behind Draco's head.

"And if they have been and they're going to be punished?" Susie said. She had an arm around Jools. "Jools isn't in any shape to be punished by Death Eaters."

"Death Eaters?" Jools demanded.

"We'll catch you up," Ginny murmured.

"I had another thought." Blaise stood at Draco's right, a hand on his shoulder. "I've been thinking about the Carrows. People are bound to get caught and punished, doing DA stuff. What we need is a safe place for people to disappear but keep on with the resistance."

"Are you saying we turn the Room of Requirement into a safe house?" Longbottom asked. He tapped his chin.

"Safe house and war room. I say we start with these four," Blaise said. His eyes narrowed. "Draco can't come back now, especially if he's been seen with any of this lot. Anyway, his father's on the out with the Dark Lord and I won't have – I mean, he's safe here."

Draco glared at his friend, suddenly remembering that he wasn't going to be stuck in this sodding room while the others did all the helping and work. "I don't give a damn about safe, I'm not going to rot in here."

"No, you're not," Blaise agreed, taking a deep breath. "Didn't you hear me? This is also going to be a war room. We plan from here, we get messages out of the castle to the Order of the Phoenix – oh, don't look at me like that, Ginevra, everyone knows about it – so they know what's happening." He gave Draco a look that told Draco just how likely it was that he would be able to argue an alternative. "You were a Quidditch captain – "

"Is!" shrieked half the team.

"Are a Quidditch captain," Blaise amended. "You're a master of unorthodox strategy. You could be an asset here or you could be a bother out of here."

"And in the meantime, Dean and I are going to sort a way out of here," Longbottom added. "We'll need people to run between here and the village for supplies and information."

"That'll be fun," Ginny said, glancing at Draco.

"Right. Fun." Draco pulled away from Blaise and took a seat on a sofa by Susie.

"Now that's sorted, we'll need to bring food up here until we can find a way to Hogsmeade," Longbottom said.

"What about the house-elves?" Millicent cut in. "They told you to let them know what else they could do. Surely they can find the Room of Requirement and get us what we need for now."

"Good job, Bulstrode," Longbottom said, grinning. "I'll go see them after our meeting's over."

The meeting didn't take much longer, but Draco's mind was on other things. No classes, no meals in the Great Hall, no contact with any of the teachers. Until a way could be found to tunnel out to Hogsmeade, they were essentially trapped in this room.

"Sorry, Draco." Blaise sat beside him.

"I'm useless here," he muttered, refusing to look at his friend. "You know it."

"I don't," Blaise said. Draco glanced at him. The corners of his mouth turned down and his eyebrows knit together.

"What, you want me stuck in here until we graduate?" Draco demanded. "How am I supposed to help anyone if all I do is sit in this bloody room all day?"

"There are plenty of things you can do from here to help," Blaise insisted. "I promise you I won't leave you a moment to get bored." He hesitated. "Please, Draco. Stay put. Do me a favor."

"Sod you," Draco grumbled, putting his head in his hands.

"Thanks," Blaise murmured. The sofa shifted and when Draco looked up, his friend had disappeared through the door.

"He's just looking after you," Ginny said softly, sitting down in Blaise's place.

"What do you know about it?" he demanded.

"Plenty," Ginny said shortly. "Right side more than you do, anyway."

"Well, sod you, too, then," Draco bit out.

"Oy!" she began.

"No, listen!" he cut her off. "How the hell am I going to look after them if I'm in here, hmm? How am I supposed to make sure Zabini isn't thrown in the dungeons because Godkin hates him? How can I see to it Amycus Carrow doesn't get his hands up Pansy's skirt? Or Jessica's? How will I know my younger Slytherins are safe? How am I supposed to protect the team?" He slammed his fists down, though the sofa absorbed the sound. "Weasley, I am worthless in here."

"I don't normally say this," she said slowly, "but I really do know how you feel."

"How could you?" He wanted to be angry.

"All my brothers are all out there – out in the real world – fighting Voldemort," she said, though her voice was very gentle. Draco was pleased with himself for barely wincing at the name. "Ron and his best friends, who are as good as siblings to me, are out chasing madmen. They could be dead." She swallowed. "What good am I to them if I go running off, trying to look after them? They need me here and they need me to trust them to take care of themselves." She squeezed his arm. "Draco, if we're in here with the map, planning kitchen raids and getting this place ready to protect other people ... if we can find a way from here to Hogsmeade to evacuate the younger students when Voldemort finds his eventual way here, and be sure he will, you're going to save lives. Many of them. What good are you to anyone if you go poncing around Slytherin and the Carrows find an excuse to lock you up?"

"I'm not interested in logic, Weasley," he muttered. By this time the room had mostly emptied, which was just as well as he didn't like to think the Hufflepuffs were watching him sulk.

She leaned into him. "I know you're not," she whispered in his ear. "You will be in a few hours, though. Just think about what I said." She got up and went to sit with Jools, who was stretched out on several sofa cushions by the fire. Ginny found an afghan and threw it over her. When Draco looked more closely, he saw the Ravenclaw shivering. Several of her former team mates were refusing to leave, so Jools had a small army of admirers and companions around her.

"Aren't any of you planning to feed her?" he demanded irritably.

"Longbottom's sending house-elves, coach," Patrice Patil said, cuddling Jools' feet.

"Shall we do some stretching while we're here?" Adrienne asked, biting back a grin. She had one of Jools' thin hands between her own, rubbing warmth back into it.

"You can run ten laps, if you fancy," Draco retorted, glowering at them. To his supreme annoyance, they all giggled.

"Why not, girls?" Jools said. She sounded sleepy. "We're still a team as far as I'm concerned. Don't you think, Suse?"

"Absolutely," Bones agreed. "Girls, ten laps and some stretching."

They all groaned. "Coach, do we have to?" Jessica whined.

"Damn right you do," he said, irritation melting into something warmer. "Don't make me come over there, Bentley."

The threat made them all squeal like little school girls.

They looked absurd, running around the large room in their school uniforms, some still in their robes and others in Oxfords and skirts. Still, Draco was smiling a bit as he made his way over to Jools.

"How're you feeling, Boot?" he asked, taking a seat beside her and examining the pale hollows of her face. She was looking a bit rosier and she certainly seemed more cheerful.

"Don't laugh," she prefaced with an enormous yawn. "But right now I feel like I could conquer the world."

**)BW(**

Ginny knew they looked ridiculous, jogging around the Room of Requirement in their pleated skirts and trainers. Still, she felt good for a bit of exercise. She was starving, but she liked the long-missed feeling of activity, of her blood up and her hair bouncing behind her. Stretching in a skirt was a challenge, but they all managed, crowded around Jools and Draco by the fire.

"If you lot find a way out of here," Hannah said, bending forward over piked legs and pressing her nose to her thighs, "you should find us a practice space we can cop off to when we fancy."

"That's an unfair advantage over the other teams," Susie said, but she was smiling as she pressed Ginny closer to the floor. Ginny could feel how just a few weeks had reduced her flexibility. She'd worked so hard on it.

"Says who?" demanded Jessica, who had no problem at all with flexibility. "They've got years of training on us."

"Anyway, we should be thinking big-picture," Jools said drowsily. Ginny hoped the elves would turn up with food soon. If Jools fell asleep, they'd have to shoot nutrients into her system magically.

"In what way, Jools?" Susie asked.

"We started this team for fun, as a lark," Jools explained around a yawn. "Coach could make us great, though. Remember, we wanted to go pro someday. How can we do that if we never practice?"

"What do you think, coach?" Parvati asked, bent over her right leg and reaching for her foot. "Reckon we could play professionally?"

Draco bit his lip. Ginny could see him weighing his words. "I think all of you could play professionally," he said slowly. "I really think you have abilities."

They erupted in cheers.

"But," he said over them, which quieted everyone at once. "I don't know that we, as a team, could go pro."

There was a moment's silence. "You mean, we could play pro on teams that already exist," Jessica said quietly. "But our team as a unit might not make it."

"You might not," he agreed, with honesty Ginny admired because it wasn't unkind. "That's no reason not to try."

They cheered again, then dog-piled on top of Draco, who tried vainly to protest. About a minute later, house-elves came to Draco's rescue with breakfast for the midnight marauders.

"You lot still eat like you still play Quidditch seven days a week," Draco grumbled, watching the team surround and pulverize the hot cakes, potatoes, and pumpkin juice.

"You never practiced seven days a week," Terry said. He spent more time watching his sister eat than eating himself.

"We did," Jools said around a mouth of potato. "We just didn't have a proper coach at the time."

"Seven days a week?" her twin said, awed.

"I've gone completely to seed," Pansy complained, poking at her arms.

"You've only been off Quidditch a week," Parvati pointed out.

"I know," Pansy wailed.

"Once we get Hogwarts sorted, are you lot going to take up playing again?" Terry asked.

"Course we are," Jools said stoutly. Her colored returned as she shoveled food into her mouth. Ginny wondered if she would make herself sick. "Right, girls?"

"For sure." Jessica nibbled at a biscuit that had somehow found its way into their picnic. "At least, we'll try."

"I have a whole plan worked out," Ginny said thoughtfully. "See, the seventh years will graduate and start a pro team. They'll take on some reserves. Then the sixth years will finish their seventh year and take over for the reserves and so on. It'll only take a few years before Jessica and Patrice are old enough."

"It's fool-proof," Millicent agreed. "We'll try not to get to the World Cup without you."

**)BW(**

Ginny would have thought living in the Room of Requirement, never being allowed out except when Neville cleared the room to make small changes to it, would have made her restless. She expected boredom, frustration, cabin fever.

She and her fellow captives were very pleasantly surprised. As Blaise had said, they wouldn't just be sitting around waiting. To begin with, Susie and Luna began bringing them class work. A word from Neville added all their course books to the Room of Requirement's south wall, where also appeared a small window.

Then Owls began pouring in. Draco and Terry brought the letters to Jools, who sorted through them. Neville reset the window so that it moved constantly and wouldn't appear to have a consistent stream of Owls appearing at it.

"Think we should get rid of it," Terry said at the end of their first week as they sat around the newly added dining room/war room table.

"We need a way to get word in and out," Ginny argued, watching in fascination as Jools gulped her way through a third bowl of French-onion soup. "Now everyone's been interviewed and we know it's safe, we need to be in touch with the Order. Until we can get a way to Hogsmeade sorted, this is all we have. Everything else is being monitored."

"I've been thinking about the tunnel I've heard about on the third floor," Jools said, leaning back in her chair and patting her belly. Ginny didn't know where her friend put all the food she'd been eating, but she never seemed to stop. Regrowing her hair seemed to eat up most of her caloric intake. "What if we ask Longbottom to wish us a tunnel or something?"

"He's tried," Ginny said. "The room can't manage it. Wishing for tunnel, a doorway, a window big enough to crawl through. It's beyond the particular magic of this room."

"Maybe he's being too direct," Draco said. He was into his own pot of coffee. Now he could eat whatever he wanted, he was getting through caffeinated drinks at an alarming rate. "Suppose we ask for something that's a proven form of magical transportation?"

"Oh, you mean like asking it to allow Apparation, even though Hogwarts has Apparation barriers?" Jools asked.

"Or getting a Floo hookup," Terry added.

"Been tried," Ginny said. "It'll give us a fire, just fine. Can't do Floo, though. Remember when Dennis stuck his head in the fire? He was trying for Floo. He's still regrowing his eyebrows."

"And Apparation?"

"Too abstract," she said. "Nev says the room needs something solid to work with."

"So essentially we need an object that has transport magic built into it already," Draco said, sighing.

"It's like this, I think," Ginny said slowly. "We've only ever been able to ask the room for physical objects. We need an object that could help us communicate with or reach outside Hogwarts. Portkeys need to be reprogrammed after every use so they aren't really practical."

"A possibility, though," Jools said. "Most of the seventh years in the DA will have some idea how to do it."

"What about a portrait?" Terry suggested. "If we asked for the right portrait, could the room move it? Not to help us get out, necessarily, but to communicate with people outside. I've heard some subjects of portraits have the ability to move between other portraits they've been drawn into."

"Like some of the ones from Dumbledore's office!" Ginny said excitedly. "I bet we could even get_ his_ portrait here if we needed it! I remember something Dumbledore told Harry once – help will always be given to those who ask for it. If we asked the room, it might be able to do it."

"We have to be careful what we ask for, though," Jools said. "If we still too many obvious things, the Carrows or Snape will notice and they'll be sure to fix the blame on someone. Longbottom, the Creeveys, Jessica. We can't risk hurting anyone."

"People are going to get hurt," Draco said flatly. "All we can do is be sure they're prepared for whatever we do."

"What if we test run?" Ginny offered. "We could ask the room for a small portrait. If it appears, we'll know it works, we can send it back, and no one will know. Then we can decide how to use the room if we need to."

They finished their dinner with this idea on their minds.

One thing was clear, Ginny thought as they settled in to some light Dark Arts evening reading. They weren't going anywhere for a while.

_TBC_


	19. Dumbledore's Army

A/N: Hello, my beloved readers! I owe you all yet another apology for the long wait. I've been in South Korea, Canada, and the US these last months and it's been madness. I think if I'd done more writing during that time, I'm feel less completely out of my mind. So, we all lost out.

Thank you so much for your patience, kindness, reviews, and favorites tags. I get them almost daily and it's absolutely lovely and inspiring. Special thanks to my beloved **Twilight**, with whom I am currently visiting in Chicago. You all should thank her – she gave me her laptop to finish this chapter while she's away at school.

Hope you all enjoy!

Loves,

J.T.

Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.R.'s. Sincerest thanks to the Goddess of pro-fic . . .

**)BW(**

Ginny never forgot watching Hogwarts turn from school to war zone. The two months following Jools' rescue deepened and darken as a war unfolded within the castle and without.

Ginny could feel them all being pulled apart. There were no children left in the castle – only young adults, childhoods demolished as they prepared to battle older, more powerful wizards. Ginny felt as though layers of herself had been peeled away during those months, revealing the raw core of who she was. Distantly, she was pleased to discover how much substance she seemed to have. She felt each day eat away at her, leaving internal scars. Beyond those scars, her soul watched and waited for a time when war was a thing of the past.

The Room of Requirement became the salvation of a large number of the student body. Ginny, Draco, Jools, and Terry hadn't been there two weeks when others began arriving. Gryffindors first, because, as Draco put it, they just couldn't keep their heads down. Hufflepuffs, to everyone's surprise, followed soon after.

"We're loyal," Patrice Patil explained as Parvati and Padma hovered tearfully over her with gauze and ointments "stolen from" (or rather, donated by) Madam Pomphrey.

Slytherins didn't come pouring in immediately, but that was because they knew how to play the Carrows' game.

"It is a game, you know," Blaise told Ginny one evening when he stopped by to check on the renegades. He wasn't yet one himself. "You know what the other side is thinking and what their strategy is and you exploit it shameless." He gave her a grin.

"Bit like Quidditch, then?" Ginny asked, knowing he was dying to say it.

He shrugged. "Exploitation not withstanding."

He came by a lot during those months. Ginny knew why. She saw the way his expression lightened every time he saw Draco parading around with maps, books, and orders for everyone in sight. Most of the Gryffindors didn't take kindly to his assuming control of the Operation Room, as he called it.

"I don't understand why he's in charge," Zacharias Smith was heard to mutter. "Nobody actually likes him."

"Speak for yourself," Pansy snapped, glaring at him across a stack of notes on a Carrow office raid she was organizing.

"I didn't mean _fancied_," Zacharias retorted. "Clearly the lot of you girls can't get enough of him."

"Bite me, Smith, you don't know anything," Pansy snarled.

"What else is new?" Parvati put in. "He was like this last time, you know."

"How could you stand it?" Pansy demanded.

"Oy, Parkinson, this isn't the Great Hall," Neville said mildly in passing. "Zach, the girls aren't the only ones with faith in Malfoy."

"Or crushes on him," Zacharias said pointedly.

"Speak for yourself," Neville said, his lip curling into a smile as Zacharias went red and buried himself in notes.

"Nev, you manage people so well," Ginny murmured as he passed her.

"Just learned not to take most of what people say personally," he told her, patting her shoulder. "People who take the piss usually aren't worth minding."

"You are one hell of a Gryffindor, Nev." Natalie put her arm around him and Ginny joined her.

"Maybe the best ever," she said, not thinking about Ron as she rested her head on Neville's shoulder.

"And you get all the ladies," Draco said, glaring at him in passing.

"No one's ever accused me of that before," Neville said, winking at him.

"I can't imagine why," Draco said, transferring the glare to Ginny.

"Draco, stop trying to victimize people and come help me get these office raids sorted," Pansy called.

"I live to serve," he grumbled with a last look at Ginny. He threw himself into a chair beside Pansy.

"Possessive little bugger," Neville said lightly, giving Ginny a squeeze and letting her go.

"You should be flattered, though, Ginny," Blaise said as he joined them. "He's not like that with most people. Just the important ones."

Ginny blushed and looked away.

"Not to worry," Blaise added. "It's a lot of show, mostly. And he's done a damn fine job spear-heading our operation here."

"What about Nev and Terry?" Ginny demanded, looking up quickly.

"We don't mind being the brains behind the image," Neville told Ginny, nodding to Draco, who was planning professorial vandalism with Pansy and fixing his hair with the help of a reflective teaspoon.

"Oy!" he said, glowering at Neville over his shoulder. "Watch it, Longbottom."

"Or what?" Neville said, clearly both amused and unimpressed. "You'll squirt me in the eye with hairspray?"

"Just because you take absolutely not pride in your appearance," Draco said, turning back to his reflection.

"Or because we haven't set up our own beauty salons in here yet," Terry added from across the room, where he was sitting with Jools.

"Go on, _coach_," Ginny said to Draco, her lip twitching. "Give 'em all laps. You know you want to."

Jools snorted. "What I wouldn't give for some laps." She was walking again after her captivity but still tired easily. That didn't stop her getting involved in planning every raid, act of vandalism, or rescue of a student.

"That an invitation?" Seamus Finnegan asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Jools' lip curled. "Don't push your luck, Irish," she advised in chilling tones.

"Bloke can dream." Seamus gave Jools a wink and went back to sorting through emergency supplies with Dean and Luna.

"Honestly!" Jools muttered, turning her own attention back to the Marauder's Map she was holding. She shot Ginny a look. "Not a word."

Ginny pressed a hand over her mouth.

"It's not just him," Susie piped up.

"Not you, too!" Jools growled.

"Between him, Zach, Ernie, and Justin," Susie said, her lip curving upward. "I don't know how you manage them all."

"Sod right off," Jools said, going red.

Draco snickered. "Little touchy there, Captain?"

"No more than you, coach," she said sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

Thank god for distractions, Ginny often thought. Tensions swelled and sank with moods, but as long as fights ended in laughter, she thought they might make it through.

Each day was filled with plans, risks, and a lot of guesswork. She awoke early and went to bed late. They all did. The room, full of hammocks and camp beds for its permanent residents, rustled late into the night as people read books, made notes, muttered about counter-curses, and whispered to each other about plans for the following day.

She felt like a machine sometimes. When she wasn't dueling with other members of the DA and researching new spells, she was planning kitchen and hospital raids or the rescue of a student targeted by the Carrows. Then there were long-term plans to sort out, contact with the Order of the Phoenix to be attempted (not terribly successfully at the moment, she thought sourly), and the constant re-creating of the Room of Requirement to accommodate all its refugees. Not to mention frequent trainings with the Quidditch team because Jools and Susie had convinced everyone that Quidditch was a necessary wartime skill.

They were also building support for the Carrows among the younger students. Ginny felt a little sick about the whole thing, but it turned out to be the best possible protection for them. Older members of each house had no trouble encouraging the younger students to listen to and mind the Carrows, even help them catch troublemakers (who were then rescued by the DA). First, second, and third years whose parents refused to pull them out of Hogwarts found protection in following the rules or pretending to.

A recent bright spot was when Neville and Dean found a way into Hogsmeade. They had been using the Room of Requirement to retrieve and test various portraits that they thought might be able to at least get word out to the Order of the Phoenix. Testing days were particularly tense because the room had to be empty when Neville reset it to retrieve portraits. It always took several minutes because he had to make sure whichever portraits he ordered couldn't see where they'd been relocated to for fear they'd report what they'd seen to other portraits or, even worse, the Carrows. They would all huddle nearby, clutching the Marauder's Map and waiting for Neville to pace three times in front of the door. If the passage stayed clear, Neville and Dean would go into the room by themselves to talk to the portrait. If it wasn't, they'd all pile in and keep quiet until the boys were done with their interview.

All the strain and worry of this process turned out to be worth it when Dean and Neville found the portrait of Ariana Dumbledore.

"She's brilliant," Dean told them all in a group meeting of the core members of the DA.

"Does she have access to the Order of the Phoenix?" Ginny asked.

"Yes – " Dean began. He was cut off by a round of cheering and clapping.

"But get this!" Neville called over the noise. "She can get us through to Hogsmeade!"

A hush fell over the room. Ginny thought everyone was holding their breath.

"What do you mean, get us through?" Draco asked. He leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees.

"Watch," Dean said. He approached the portrait. Ariana Dumbledore, a little girl in a blue dress, smiled and walked away into her portrait. Dean kept walking toward the portrait until it looked like he might walk headlong into the wall. Instead, he grew smaller and smaller, almost as though he were walking in place and shrinking. Suddenly, he was gone.

Everyone gasped.

"Where does it go?" Jools demanded.

"Like we said," Neville said, grinning. "Hogsmeade."

"Is there a portrait on the other side?" Pansy asked. "How does it work?"

"There are two copies of this portrait," Neville explained. "One is here; the other is in a room above the Hog's Head."

"Do we trust the owner?" Padma Patil asked, her fingers steepled under her chin.

"He's Ariana's brother, actually. Aberforth." Neville said quietly. Before anyone could say anything else, Dean reappeared out of the portrait behind Ariana. She settled back into her frame with a peaceful smile. Dean stepped out onto the floor in the Room of Requirement.

"It's brilliant," he said. "With a small hiccup of a problem."

"What's that?" Ginny asked, not liking the grimness on his face.

"Death Eaters invaded Hogsmeade yesterday," Dean said quietly. "They've set up patrols and are watching every building. Old Abe told me."

Murmurs broke out around the room.

"Then we can't use this after all," Draco said, sinking back into his chair. His hands, gripping the armrests, were white.

"We can, but it's going to be a lot harder," Dean said. "Old Abe – he's the owner of the Hog's Head – he's willing to help us. We're just gonna have to be sneaky."

"Why now?" Terry wondered. "Why are the Death Eaters suddenly interested in Hogsmeade?"

"Maybe word's got out that Hogwarts students are disappearing," Luna suggested dreamily. "There are quite a few of us here."

"So they invade Hogsmeade?" Draco said, shaking his head. "No, there's got to be more to it than that."

"Could it have something to do with Harry?" Ginny said, lowering her voice. The meeting was tucked into a corner of the room, away from most of the rest of the students hiding there. None of those students had been interviewed the way the core DA had and though all seemed eager to help in the fight, the core had decided to provide confidential information on a need-to-know basis.

"Anyone still getting the _Daily Prophet_?" Neville asked.

"I am," Lisa spoke up, waving a copy.

"Anything new about Harry or Ron or Hermione?"

"Gringotts break-in," Lisa reported, scanning the paper. "Harry and the others were blamed for it but there aren't any photos or anything." She blinked, eyebrows up. "Apparently they escaped on a dragon."

"Of course they did," Ginny murmured with a slightly hysterical laugh. Pansy, who was reading over Lisa's shoulder, threw Ginny a shaky grin.

"Granger's the brain and she'd never do something so ... against the rules," she said.

"With Umbridge running the Ministry, Potter's going to take the rap for everything that happens," Blaise said, scanning the article.

"But suppose You-Know-Who got word Harry's coming back to Hogwarts – or trying to," Parvati suggested. "How else is Harry going to get passed the Carrows and into the castle? Hogsmeade's his only choice. One of the tunnels into the castle or Ariana's portrait, which he doesn't even know about. Apart from the Forbidden Forest and that's to the north."

Ginny bit her lip. A constant fear stuck like a bur in her heart. Ron was out there – however much she loved Harry and Hermione, Ron was her brother. "At least the forest isn't likely to have human inhabitants," she murmured. "Surely they wouldn't come through Hogsmeade and risk being seen."

"Why not?" Pansy returned, knuckles white as she clamped her arms around her knees. "They probably can't follow the news and they'd have no way of knowing what's going on at Hogwarts or that they're Ministry targets."

"Can we warn them?" Hannah wondered.

"Doubt it." Draco rubbed his chin. "Even a common barn owl will catch the eye of a Death Eater. We can't risk sending them anything."

"The last thing they need is to call any more attention to themselves," Blaise agreed. He sat perched on the desk, tossing a paperweight between his hands and not looking at anyone. "Unless something better turns up, we'll just have to trust them. They have Hermione – she's half the brains of Hogwarts."

"Oy!" Pansy and Draco said. Ginny smiled into her lap and silently agreed with him that any team with Hermione on was sure to have a better-than-average chance.

She sent up a wish that better-than-average would be enough.

**)BW(**

Trips to Hogsmeade added a new level of risk to the Room of Requirement operation. Though they couldn't venture into Hogsmeade itself, they began devising a way to sneak younger students out of the castle. They suddenly had the help of the Order of the Phoenix, with whom Aberforth Dumbledore could communicate. The Order couldn't do much, with Hogsmeade cut off, but they were as eager to clear Hogwarts of its young inhabitants as the DA. Many parents had no idea what was happening within Hogwarts and were too scared to investigate, lest their children be hurt or taken. The Order, in touch directly or otherwise with these parents, was eager to spread the word about what was really happening at Hogwarts to keep support of Umbridge's Ministry of Magic in check.

"So they're going to try to find the original blueprints for the Hog's Head and see what they can do about smuggling kids into the woods and then Portkeying them out from there." Thomas and Finnegan had just returned from a meeting with Aberforth, who had been in touch with the Order, apparently through another secure portrait.

"What, they think there's an underground tunnel?" Blaise sounded doubtful and Draco didn't blame him.

"There're tunnels all over the place near Hogwarts," Ginny pointed out. "Why not under the pub, too?"

"Point," Blaise conceded.

"Abe doesn't know of any tunnels, but he thinks the original owner was weird and paranoid enough that he might have made some," Finnegan said. He had found chips and marmalade somewhere. He always seemed to be eating. Eating and staring at Jools. Draco rolled his eyes. He'd known the good guys were completely mad when he'd signed up but Seamus Finnegan took mad to new and terrifying places.

"All right, keep us updated," Longbottom said. He glanced at Finnegan and his snack. "Seamus, that's vile."

"Someone should stop me," the Irishman said, winking at Jools.

"I'll stop you from living, Finnegan," she swore. "Girls, training."

"I love training," Finnegan said, smiling at her. She thumped his shoulder and he fell over. Her arms were getting stronger, Draco noticed abstractly as Finnegan groaned from the floor and popped another chip into his mouth.

"Jools, don't tease the boys," Parvati Patil said, nudging her as they went off to the little corner they'd appropriated for Quidditch upkeep.

"He started it," Jools growled. Ginny put an arm around her shoulders and said something in her ear that made Jools shout with laughter. Draco still had a hard time adjusting to the real Jools. He tensed whenever he saw Ginny with her and was always amazed when they got on like best friends.

"You lie, Weasley!" Finnegan called from the floor. "Whatever you're saying, it's a vicious lie."

"Those girls are going to graduate and the wizarding world won't know what hit them." Blaise sat down beside Draco on his couch.

"I'm counting on it," Draco told him. "As I plan on throwing the Malfoy fortune behind making them a professional team."

Blaise's eyes went wide. "You're serious."

"Yeah." Draco rolled his eyes. "What, it was your idea for me to train them. You knew I wouldn't make half a job of it."

"You're willing to risk your entire fortune?"

"Ha! You're forgetting Grandmother Black."

"She left you a fortune, too?" Blaise glared at him. "Why did you never mention this to me?"

"I don't tell you everything. We're not girls." Draco preened a bit. "If you must know, I was Grandmother Black's favorite grandchild."

Blaise snorted. "Only because she thought you were a little girl."

Draco scowled. "Mock me again, Zabini …"

**)BW(**

Ginny's Quidditch training, though it didn't take place on a broom, was beginning to show again. She could feel the tightness in her upper arms, the reluctance of her legs to straighten in the morning (though that could have been because she slept in a hammock). She felt the power that came with physical strength and had nothing to do with magic. She loved it, reveling in the independence and courage it gave her.

"We'll have to get you back on a broom soon or all that lovely muscle will go to abysmal waste," Draco said clinically. They sat around a table with Blaise, Jools, and Susie, going over copies of maps and Hog's Head blueprints brought them by Dean and Seamus earlier that day.

"I can use it for other things," Ginny pointed out, ducking her head to hide a blush at the compliment.

"I'll bet." Blaise gave Ginny and Draco a significant look.

"Such as," Ginny said bravely in the face of Slytherin mockery, "helping get groups of students out of the castle."

"Sure," Draco said with an easy shrug, his eyes fixed on the upper corner of the map. "We'll need people to coordinate from here so the room isn't ever overcrowded. There're enough seventh years in the DA – they could do the running to Hogsmeade."

"We'll need to make sure those students can't see the room or the escape route," Blaise added, though he threw a look at Ginny that confirmed they both knew what Draco was doing. "We have no way of knowing who's loyal to who with most of the first, second, and third years."

"And we'll need people to ferry the kids through Hogsmeade," Jools said stoutly. "Who better than the strongest, fastest girls in the DA?"

Draco snorted, still not looking at Ginny. "Or possibly the strongest _boys_ in the DA?"

"Shouldn't they be the ones rounding up students from around the school?" Ginny asked sweetly. "It will be so dangerous, you know, all those evil teachers everywhere – "

Draco's head snapped up, his glare fixed on Ginny. "Don't start, Weasley."

"Or what?" she said coolly, returning her eyes to the map. "I should be one of the runners to Hogsmeade. I know more about the town than most people."

Draco took a long breath through his nose and Ginny chose that moment to walk away. She'd been doing that a lot lately. They did all right, though the stress of running an underground movement raised tension and had many people balanced on a knife's edge. Fights broke out daily between students from different houses, same houses, different years. Ginny sometimes wondered how they stayed together, cohesive. She supposed the daily dose of injuries and new student refugees helped keep people focused on a goal.

She left on a kitchen raid soon after, deaf to protests, however veiled, from Draco. The raids were necessary, Ginny had pull with the house-elves, and Draco needed to stop trying to protect her all the time.

That wasn't to say she wasn't touched. The only other people he was like that with were Blaise and Pansy.

"Malfoy's going to explode one of these days," Terry pointed out as they suited up with rucksacks and double-checked the Marauder's Map.

Ginny shook her head, tucking away a smile. "He's fine."

**)BW(**

Draco didn't watch Ginny leave, ever. He couldn't think about the possibility that she might not come back from a raid. Instead, he kept his back to her when she left and waited for someone to mention that she had returned.

She was out on one such raid when they got the news.

Draco sat at a table with Pansy, Jools, and Zacharias Smith, who he despised. Apart from the fact that the git was a Hufflepuff, he was the most irritating person in Hogwarts. Unfortunately, he insisted on being in on some of their most complex and dangerous plans. Terry Boot and Longbottom forbade Draco's excluding him or locking him in a cupboard. Draco didn't understand why – Smith argued everything, even if he agreed with it. Longbottom suggested Smith was playing devil's advocate, just to keep everyone's minds open. Draco told Longbottom what he could do with the devil and Pansy came quickly to take Draco away from Longbottom.

"Longbottom's got a point," she murmured as she pushed him into a chair beside Smith.

"Take your time, Malfoy," Smith said, rolling his eyes.

Draco went for his wand. Jools and Pansy dove across the table. In the scuffle, Pansy managed to whisper in Draco's ear, "You're acting like Potter. What kind of Slytherin are you?"

Draco stilled. "I'm not the one shagging him," he whispered back.

"Perish the thought," Jools added, giggling in a whisper.

"Why are we all whispering about shagging Potter?" Smith whispered as well, leaning in.

Draco leapt away from him. "No touchy, Hufflepuff!" he barked. Several people at surrounding tables glared at him.

Sometime later, they had only got as far as drawing up a schedule for kitchen raids that coincided with an alternating schedule for trips to the Hog's Head.

"It looks better than it did, anyway," Pansy murmured as she bent over it. "We couldn't keep going to Old Abe for food that often without drawing a lot of attention to him. This way we can stretch our resources further for longer."

"But how much longer will we need them?" Jools said, glancing around the room. The original DA members knew the best-kept secrets of the room – how to get in and out, both through the door and the portrait. Though their refugees hadn't been run through the Veritaserum routine, there were too many of them not to take advantage if they offered to help. They all knew the arrangement couldn't last – eventually, they'd have to clear out all but the most trustworthy students and prepare to take the castle back. They knew, but Draco wondered who would have to make the call about which students were to be trusted.

"We'll have to do something soon," Smith said, shrugging like it was obvious. Draco still couldn't believe the git was a full member of the DA. Surely people as annoying as him were pure evil. "Even if Longbottom keeps expanding the room, even if we get the Order to start removing younger students, You-Know-Who will be gunning for this place. Dumbeldore's dead, the only man You-Know-Who feared. You-Know-Who will want to take this place as soon as he can."

"But Hogwarts isn't his objective yet," Pansy cut in. "His first objective is going to be Potter until Potter – well, until he isn't a problem anymore. And since we think the Death Eaters are in Hogsmeade because they think Potter's headed that way …"

"Where the hell is Potter anyway?" Smith demanded. He asked about once a day.

"I expect he's out hanging his washing today," Draco snapped. "Merlin, Smith, nobody _bloody well knows_."

"And I think we've done quite enough planning for today," Jools said, jumping up and pulling Draco with her. "Come away now, coach."

"Don't know what kind of Quidditch captain you think you are," the heedless Smith went on. "Not like you've got a pitch, nor ever will have again."

Draco made an interesting noise as his star Beater dragged him off. "Cor, mate," she murmured in an undertone. "Potter didn't even get to you like that."

"He did, but I could bait him," Draco told her, shaking her off. He looked instinctively around but Ginny was nowhere to be seen. He knew he'd always have a willing sympathizer in her – Ginny loathed Smith as well, for some reason.

"Malfoy." Draco turned to see Longbottom and Susie Bones leaning over a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ that lay on the table. Longbottom's expression had Draco and Jools beside them in a moment. Draco scanned the article. Jools gasped and Draco felt the blood drain from his face.

"What have they done?" Susie muttered, sinking onto the desk beside Longbottom.

The headline read, _Potter, Weasley, and Granger wanted for the murder of Albus Dumbledore_.

Draco didn't read anymore. He sat down hard on the other end of the desk. Nobody spoke for a moment.

"The _Prophet_ cottoned on," Longbottom murmured after a long pause, "that Harry, Ron, and Hermione disappeared the night Dumbledore was killed." Draco saw his fists clench.

"How the hell'd they sort that?" Jools demanded.

"Informant inside the castle, obviously," Draco murmured, hardly aware of what he was saying.

"Course there is," Susie murmured. "We've been encouraging the younger students to friendly up with the Carrows. Either of the Carrows could have said something."

"That's all they need," Pansy said, her voice shaking. Draco hadn't noticed her join them. "They were on the run anyway. Now the whole sodding world is going to think they're wanted for murder." She glanced at Draco. "Blaise is going to lose his mind."

"Zabini?" Jools demanded. "Who cares about him? What about Weasley? The Ginny shaped one?"

Draco's insides sank to his toes. Ginny. She had been devastated by Dumbledore's death. He couldn't imagine what the totally unwarranted framing of her brother would do to her. She would know what it meant – that he and Potter and Granger suddenly had giant bullseyes painted on their backs. And those bullseyes would be visible to the entire literate wizarding world.

"Who says they didn't kill Dumbledore?" Smith said. He reeled back a moment later and fell over. Everyone stared at Pansy, who was rubbing her fist.

"You listen to me, Smith," she said, advancing on him. No one stopped her. "Shut up before I shut you up for good."

"If Harry, Ron, and Hermione killed Dumbledore, I'll eat my foot," Longbottom added, glaring at Smith in a way he'd never done before.

"How dare you?" Jools cut in. "Hermione's one of the most honorable witches I know! She'd never get involved in anything like that."

"And it's not like the _Prophet_ ever lies or embellishes," Pansy finished scathingly.

Smith stared. He didn't quite have a bloody nose because Pansy wasn't much of a fist-waver, but he looked shaken.

"Whatever," he muttered, climbing to his feet and glaring at them. He sent an appealing look to Susie, but she shook her head and looked away. He scowled and retreated to a sofa where Hannah Abbot sat with Patrice Patil and a few other Hufflepuffs. He began whispering almost at once.

"Whatever Smith's saying to you, keep in mind that he just accused Harry Potter of murder!" Draco called casually. The entire room went quiet.

"I hate you, Malfoy!" Smith snapped.

"Likewise," Draco said cheerfully. He turned back to the paper, his amusement vanishing in an instant.

"Who's going to show Ginny?" Longbottom said as the others bent over the paper.

"I will," Draco said at once. "She's on a raid but when she gets back ..."

Hopefully she's be gone a while. He had no idea what to say.

**)BW(**

In the end, Draco simply took the paper to her. He didn't see her come back from the raid, but he saw her talking with some of the younger students, all obviously Gryffindors. They looked worried but were slowly beginning to smile as Ginny illustrated some funny story about the raid with the use of her arms.

" - and Filch was _upside down_ and then – oh, hi, Malfoy." She smiled and he felt like a villain.

"Come with me," he said without preamble, taking her arm and pulling her away to the bunks.

"Oy!" she started, pulling her arm free and glaring at him.

"Please, Weasley," he said more sharply than he meant to. Something in his tone, maybe the "please", got her attention. She followed silently as he led her to the bunks. He sat down on the edge of his, the paper still clutched in his hand.

"What is it?" she asked. Her voice was steady but her face was white, the freckles prominent.

"No one's died," he said immediately. Her shoulders sagged in relief, but she kept her eyes on his face.

"Here." He thrust the paper at her.

She stared at the headline, dark eyes rounding in the dim light.

"Obviously it's not true," Draco said slowly, taking in the tightening of her jaw. "The _Prophet's_ been selling a lot of rubbish."

"Rubbish that could get them killed," Ginny said. She sounded distant, as though she wasn't really aware he was there. "It's not just the Ministry after them anymore. Accusations like this." She met his eye, a kind of desperate, horrified light lingering in hers. "Ordinary witches and wizards will be going for them now. They won't have anyone to turn to."

"People want someone to blame," Draco said carefully.

"And the_ Prophet'_s always happy to help with that," Ginny said, sounding a little breathless. "Where will they go? What will they do? Do they even know?"

"They know to look out," Draco said. "They have Granger – they'll do all right."

Ginny looked up and gave a hollow laugh. "Yeah right." She dropped her face into her hands. Draco had no idea what to do – did she want to be alone?

Her hand reached out, groping until it caught one of his.

"I know you hate my brother," she said, her voice hoarse. "But I'm so scared for him, Draco."

Draco rubbed her hand between his, helpless and furious.

"I don't hate your brother," he told her gruffly.

She gave a hiccupping laugh, gripping his hand like a lifeline.

"Who said Ron and Harry and Hermione killed Dumbledore?" she asked at last, not looking up. "I mean," she added, slightly hysterical now, "no one actually saw the headmaster killed and no one knows where the Dream Team were that night until they left."

He had no idea what to say. Much as he wanted to put a stop to her morbid train of thought before she upset herself anymore, he couldn't say with absolute certainty that she wasn't right. Just because it was absurd didn't mean it was impossible.

"Obviously whoever told the _Prophet_ is in Hogwarts," Draco said, trying to find any way to draw her away from thinking of a member of her family as a murderer.

_I know what that's like and I don't want that for her_, he thought, clenching his teeth at the thought of Aunt Bellatrix and his father, even Ananda. The difference was that his family were actually murderers.

Ginny's head snapped up. "Inside the castle?" she demanded. "The informant's here?"

"Only someone inside Hogwarts would think to blame Harry Potter for something like this," Draco pointed out. "No one else could be really sure there's no alibi."

Ginny didn't say anything else, but her eyes raked over the front-page article again. She pulled her hand from Draco's and read the full article, flipping to a second page further into the paper. Without warning, she cast the page aside and turned away. She crossed the room in three strides and threw the door of the Room of Requirement wide open.

"Gin, wait!" Draco scrambled after her.

"Malfoy, don't!" Longbottom grabbed his arm as the door shut behind Ginny.

"She's going to get caught!" he snarled, trying to shake the Gryffindor off. More than caught, probably – who knew what the madwoman would do?

"Then she'll get caught and we'll break her out," Longbottom said firmly. "Let her cause some damage first."

Draco stared at him. "Let her cause some damage?" he repeated. "Are you mad? They might kill her!"

"They won't," Longbottom told him. "And no one causes more damage when they're in a rage than Ginny." He gave a grim smile. "You showed her the paper?"

"Yeah."

"Good." When Draco looked surprise, Longbottom shrugged. "Let her think they're attacking her family. She'll cause twice the damage and calm down enough to realize it can't be true." Longbottom gave him a sharp look. "Nothing scares Ginny more than the thought of another Percy disaster."

"Who's – "

"Percy? He's her brother. Ask her about it sometime. For now, though, let her go."

Draco stared at the door. "She's got one hour," he said at last, narrowing his eyes. "If she's not back, I'm going after her."

Longbottom nodded. "That's fair. I'll join you."

**)BW(**

Ginny saw red as she burst from the Room of Requirement and tore off down the corridor. She wanted to hit something – she thought about hitting some_one_. She didn't much care who – maybe the first person to come along. She hoped distantly it wasn't one of the younger ones because a small voice in her head said hitting children wasn't good.

How dare they! The _Prophet _was known for dishing out unresearched, biased drivel about Harry. They were all used to it. But to drag Ron in as well – Ron! One of the most honest, good-hearted people she knew. It was preposterous! Absurd!

Totally unfair.

Ginny swallowed a harsh laugh. What did fair have to do with anything? Fair wasn't the issue. Justice was.

She didn't look where she was going – she walked, hoping she'd run into someone she could hex, curse, or potentially eviscerate. Preferably Snape or the Carrows, but she'd settle for another professor. Sprout, McGonagall, Flitwick ... they were sitting around doing nothing while Death Eaters tore the castle and its students apart. Let them eat wand as well.

She was on the second floor by the time she saw anyone. She heard voices first. She could make out three of them before she identified who they belonged to. She needed to get closer – however badly she wanted to end all three of them before they realized she was there, she wasn't too blind with rage that she didn't realize how useful the information could be. They ducked up a rickety flight of stairs behind a tapestry that Ginny was sure led to the fourth floor corridor. She doubled back up the main staircase, relieved for possibly the first time that the castle was so empty these days.

She reached the fourth floor and found a hiding place behind a massive suit of armor just as her three targets emerged from behind another tapestry. She was within ten meters of them and could hear them clearly now. She could see them, too – one of the supports on the suit of armor's wooden stand made for a perfect peephole.

"You'd do well not to listen to rumors, Amycus," Severus Snape was saying, his lip curled. "Do you really believe Harry Potter, let alone his useless companions, had the power or inclination to kill Dumbledore?"

Amycus Carrow frowned. "They call him the Chosen One, Severus."

"The _Daily Prophet_ calls him that, you fool, just as it accuses him of murder on a bogus tip from an extremely unreliable witness," Snape spat. "You forget that I taught all three of them. Potter is mediocre with a streak of good luck, Granger is a Mudblood with an overactive brain, and Weasley is their lap dog, useless to the last degree."

Ginny's fist went white along the length of her wand.

"Perhaps you didn't know," Snape went on, "that I was with Dumbledore when he died."

Both Carrows looked surprised. Ginny felt a deep foreboding ache in the pit of her stomach.

"Not only was I there," Snape went on, sneering, "but I was the one who took Dumbledore's wand." He reached into his robes and pulled out a long, crooked length of wood. "I took his wand and I killed him myself."

"It was you?" Ginny breathed. She was out from behind the suit of armor without any idea how she got there. Her wand arm, she was pleased to note, held steady as she trained it on Snape.

Snape turned slowly, a Carrow on either side of him. Sensible Ginny knew she was in a lot of trouble, but blind-red-rage Ginny would have taken them and another six Death Eaters without a thought.

"Yes," Snape said, his lip curling. "Who else in the castle is powerful enough?"

"He probably had to stand perfectly still with a big bull's-eye over his heart," Ginny snarled, twenty spells hovering just below her conscious mind. She didn't know which would come first. She didn't care.

Snape's expression flickered. Just a tightness in his temples and a few rapid blinks. "Miss Weasley, I suggest you turn around and start running before – "

"No, Snape." Amycus Carrow slid forward. Ginny's rage was happy with any target that was Death-Eater-shaped and she shifted her wand. Unlike Snape, Carrow paused at the sight of the wand. "Go on, what are you planning on doing? You're a renegade – you've broken every rule this school has. You're not walking away."

"Probably not," Ginny said with a feral grin. "But I'm going to raise hell before you take me down." She slid her hand into her pocket and activated the fake Galleon. At least the DA would know something was up, even if they didn't know what.

"Miss Weasley," Alecto Carrow said, also moving forward. Like her brother, she was paying attention to the wand in Ginny's hand. "You'd be Arthur Weasley's daughter?"

"What of it?" she said slowly.

"Been hearing interesting stories about your brother," Alecto said, insinuating herself between Snape and Ginny. "Seems he's got himself a bit of a criminal record."

Ginny rolled her eyes, refusing to be baited. "Which one?" She flicked her wand and green sparks showered the floor, forcing Amycus and Alecto back.

"The one helping Harry Potter."

Ginny's insides twisted but she forced out, "They all are, where have you been?"

Snape coughed and Alecto scowled.

"I think we'll deal with this one," Amycus said.

"No," Snape said coldly. "Weasley comes with me."

Amycus opened his mouth to object, but Snape cut him off. "I am headmaster here, Amycus. You and your sister stay here at the Dark Lord's pleasure. A word from me and you'd be out running from the Ministry again."

Amycus's ample lip curled, but Alecto caught his sleeve.

"And don't you agree," Snape added softly, "that as the man responsible for killing Dumbledore, I have plenty of pull with the Dark Lord? More so, perhaps, than you yourselves will ever have?"

The Carrows shared a sibling look, something Ginny recognized from the ones she shared with her brothers. "This time, Snape," Amycus said. "This time." He allowed his sister to lead him away down the hall, his beady eyes flickering back just once.

Snape nodded curtly, though when he turned away Ginny saw him roll his eyes. "Come along, Miss Weasley."

She could fight him, she knew. She could throw every spell she had learned, could even do some rudimentary Occlumency to keep Snape from immediately anticipating her attacks. But he had killed Dumbledore – he could also kill her, probably easily.

"It would be wise of you to come quietly," he said, as though already reading her indecisive thoughts.

She kept her wand tightly wrapped in her fingers and was mildly surprised that Snape didn't try to take it. But then, he obviously didn't think of her as much of a threat. As if to confirm this, he turned and strode away down the corridor without a backward glance. She followed him, realizing almost at once where they were headed. She felt a surge of relief, though she suddenly realized how stupid that relief was. Snape had killed Dumbledore. Snape was the bad guy.

They walked in silence. Ginny thought a couple of times about running for it. She couldn't fight him, but she doubted he expected her to flee. She was only checked by the memory of Harry telling her about Snape's strength as a Legilimens.

She swallowed. At least, (if she was right) he was taking her to the headmaster's office. She doubted he would try anything too awful in front of the other headmasters who hung in the room. As long as they stayed in his office, she was relatively safe. She stumbled as it occurred to her that Dumbledore's portrait would be there now. She'd be seeing him again. A shadow, yes, but the thought of his kind blue eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles made her heart wrench against her ribs and her eyes sting.

And Snape had put him there.

She clenched her fists as he opened up the entrance to the headmaster's office. She balled her free hand into the sleeve of her robe to keep from using it on Snape. She tucked the tip of her wand into her other pocket to keep any thought of cursing him out of her mind. She ducked her head so that she could see no part of him at all as she followed him up the spiral staircase and into the headmaster's office. She only looked up when they stood before the desk. She only just kept from gasping.

Dumbledore was there, just behind the desk. Ginny blinked hard.

"Miss Weasley," he said with a twinkle that broke the dam of tears. "I wondered when I might be seeing you here."

"Sooner than expected, sir?" she said thickly, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve.

"A bit, perhaps," he said. "How am I finding you this morning?"

"Been better, sir," she admitted with a vicious glare at Snape, who was seating himself behind the headmaster's desk and looking deeply unconcerned by Ginny's temper. "You?"

"Quite well, thank you." Behind Snape's back, Dumbledore met Ginny's eye and shook his head. She didn't know what to make of that so she stayed silent.

"Weasley," Snape said after a long pause, folding his hands on the desk and peering at her like a vulture at an animal carcass. "What have you to say for yourself?"

Ginny didn't meet his eye, sensible she should put off the inevitable invasion of her mind as long as possible. Either Legilimancy or Veritaserum – what difference did it make? She began building the mental barriers they had been researching and learning in the DA. Behind the barriers, she piled up a heap of memories of Quidditch – everything from her first aerial to her best games. Blaise, who had been spear-heading the Legilimancy/Occlumency research, called it a mental Patronus.

"Nothing, sir," she said, settling herself for a long chat and not meeting his eye.

"Indeed." Ginny felt his gaze on her. She fixed her own on the floor. "I don't need eye contact to invade you mind, you know."

"Better get on with it, then," she said, her voice shaking in spite of her. She put up a few more layers of Quidditch, lacing through them layers of family and friends. She stayed well away from Ron, Harry, and Hermione, but plenty of images of the team, her mum and dad, riding on Charlie's shoulders, and playing chess with Bill filled the gaps nicely. She pushed the memories outward, like a balloon. Then she met Snape's eyes.

"Then again," Snape said, steepling his fingers under his chin. "Perhaps I've chosen too comfortable a venue for this interview. You may feel safe here." He threw a sardonic look at the portrait behind him.

Ginny glanced at it, too, unable to stop herself. The old man nodded serenely at her but the moment Snape turned away, he gave her another minute shake of his head. She didn't know what it meant. She gritted her teeth, turning her concentration back to her mental shield. "No one feels safe here anymore, _Professor_."

To her surprise, a ghost of a smile flickers across his lips. She suddenly realized she'd used the same voice she often used when she called Draco "_Coach_." Thinking of him, she added a carefully hidden layer to her mental shield.

"If you're going to violate my mind, get going, won't you?" she asked, finding Snape's eyes again.

He frowned, his head on one side.

"While I'm young," Ginny growled.

"While you're shielded, you mean," he said coolly. "Don't take me for a fool, Miss Weasley. Come with me."

He stood and strode from the office. Probably hoping she'd try and run for it, she thought. She couldn't have made it two feet – his wordless magic would be far too powerful. Silently, she fell into step behind him. He led her down the steps of the headmaster's office. When they reached the second-floor entrance behind the gargoyle statue, he paused.

"Your loyalty to the previous headmaster," he said in a low voice, not turning to her. "How complete was it?"

"I'd die for him," she said immediately.

"As I thought," he said, and then Ginny's world went black.

When she came to, she was in a dim chamber that looked like a mix between Hogwarts' estimable library and a scroll repository. She blinked, pushing herself upright on what felt like a table. Snape sat in a chair against the opposite wall, scanning a book in his lap.

"Nice," she said. Apart from a sore elbow she felt all right. "Set up a torture chamber, have you?"

"We haven't much time," Snape said.

Ginny didn't. Going unconscious had completely dissolved her mental shield. She scrambled to put it back up, but her brain was still foggy.

"If I was going to invade you mind, as you put it, I'd have done so while you were unconscious," Snape said, rolling his eyes. "And if I really wanted information from you, I'd have it by now. Believe me, Miss Weasley."

Something in his tone changed and Ginny paused, squinting at him. "Sir?"

"As I said, we haven't much time," Snape said shortly. He took a deep breath. "I need your help."

**)BW(**

They found her in a heap on the second floor. Draco had her in his arms without realizing he'd moved. Thomas and Longbottom kept close, wands drawn. Jools held the Marauder's Map, though she kept an eye on Ginny. Draco knew the look – he'd seen it in Ginny's eyes the night they'd rescued Jools.

It seemed like a lifetime ago.

She wasn't in terribly shape, or didn't look it. Her eye blacked, nose bloody, arm bent at an awkward angle. At a guess, a few of the students working with the Carrows had got to her and roughed her up. He shook and wished he knew who those students had been.

They got her back to the Room of Requirement. The team surrounded her with cries of alarm.

"Back! Back!" Jools and Susie muscled the frantic team away as Draco and Thomas, who'd taken Magical Healing together, set to work. When she was in better shape – bruises gone and arm set – they woke her.

She blinked, red lashes fluttering against her cheeks. She worked her jaw experimentally, then noticed her arm.

"Damn," she muttered, pushing herself upright. "How'm I supposed to throw a Quaffle now?"

The team's advance was too much for Jools and Susie, who gave in and allowed the others to swarm around her.

"You're not much good at it," Blaise pointed out, leaning over her.

"Shut up, Zabini, or I'll ..." She frowned. "I'll kick you in the head."

"You okay?" Draco asked gruffly.

A funny look crossed her face. Not anger, exactly ... "I'm okay now." She sighed. "I'm sorry. Shouldn't have taken off like that."

"Damn right, you shouldn't!" Longbottom knelt beside her.

"Sorry, Nev." She didn't look upset; mostly embarrassed.

"You were just doing what the rest of us wanted to," Jools said bracingly. "Someone back me up."

The Gryffindor contingent nodded.

"Just 'cause some of you aren't all reckless," Ginny muttered with a small smile. The team girls piled on her with hugs and questions. Draco noticed that Ginny evaded most of them, but her eyes kept flicking to him. She looked worried, he thought, which surprised him. He had expected fury, frustration, confusion. He didn't know what had happened to her and he wanted to ask.

Jools did it for him. "Gin, what happened to you?"

No one asked why she'd left. They'd all seen the paper before Blaise ripped it up and stormed away to "have a little word with someone's face."

Ginny stared straight ahead.

"You don't have to talk about it," Susie Bones began, patting Ginny's hand.

"No, it's fine." She looked anxious, not abused. "Had a run-in with Snape."

Gasps all around. Draco felt his breath leave in a rush. Snape!

"How'd you get away?" Parvati Patil demanded, adjusting Ginny's sofa cushion with proprietary fluttering of the hands.

Again, Ginny paused, chewing her lip. "I ran," she said slowly, carefully. Draco stared – he'd heard her relate a number of close calls to friends and she never paused for a moment. She had an animated way of waving her hands around and talking very loudly. Now she kept her hands bundled into her lap and her voice low.

"You ran and broke your own arm and fell unconscious?" Pansy said, eyebrows high.

"I ran into some Carrow supporters," Ginny told her, still tip-toeing through the words. "After I'd outrun Snape, I was careless and didn't look where I was going. I'm just lucky you lot found me first."

More than lucky, Draco thought. She was lying, he knew it. Or at least, she was omitting a majority of the facts. Snape would never have lost track of her like that. He was headmaster and he was persistent. He'd never have let go of a member of the DA if he'd actually captured her.

He kept his eye on Ginny's face but she didn't look at him. She focused on her teammates, leaving Draco to wonder exactly how and why she'd wound up in that corridor.

**)BW(**

Ginny kept away from Draco the next day. He had that look he used to get when she was trying to hide the fact that she'd missed five or six passes in practice. She wasn't fooling him, she knew that. Her story was flimsy and anyone who knew Snape would know it wasn't possible for her to get away from him unless he let her. Pansy (and Blaise, once he returned from Slytherin with what he claimed was Godkin's blood on his fist) seemed to be roughly on the same page – they knew she wasn't being completely honest, but they also seemed less likely than Draco to press the issue.

She also wasn't sure how to tell Draco that Snape had killed Dumbledore.

To avoid these thoughts and avoid Draco, she found little tasks with which to occupy herself. Luckily, her fear that Draco might corner her and demand to know what had really happened was relieved early in the day by another crisis.

"She's been gone for hours," Colin was saying to Terry. Ginny had approached to offer Terry a look at their latest sabotage plan for the Carrows' office space. They wanted proof that the Carrows were communicating directly with the new Minister for Magic, Delores Umbridge. Ginny was leading the raiding party on the Carrows' office, where they could check the Floo log that existed in every Floo network. If the Carrows were in touch with Umbridge, it meant the Ministry had fallen into Voldemort's hands. Ginny's parents, who managed now to get in touch (though infrequently) through Order communication lines, had voiced their concerns about a suspected Death Eater takeover.

"Who's been gone for hours?" Ginny asked, pushing thoughts of terrifying things out of her mind.

"Ariana," Colin said, indicating the portrait.

"And Dean," Seamus added as he joined them. He had a bag of crisps in one hand and a bottle of ketchup in the other.

"Seamus, really!"

"And don't you be looking at me like that, Patil," he said to Parvati, who was watching him lick his fingers with horrified fascination.

"Who isn't?" Jools saw Parvati's look of horror and raised her a look of loathing.

"You'll come round, Juliet, my dream!" Seamus called cheerfully after her.

"She'll come round with a Beater's bat," Blaise said, patting Seamus on the shoulder and snatching a handful of crisps. Ginny had noticed with some alarm that the Irishman seemed to be growing on the Slytherin. Blaise was going, or had secretly always been, completely soft.

"Ginny."

Susie Bones stood at her elbow. "DA meeting in a few minutes," the former captain said quietly. "We have to decide what to do about the portrait."

"What do you mean?" Ginny began, but Susie had already slipped away to collect others.

Ginny felt a flicker of unease in her stomach as she thought about the article, the siege on Hogsmeade, and the fact that Ariana Dumbledore's portrait might be the only means of escape for younger members of the castle, and the only means of entry for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. She twisted a corner of her jumper round her finger and she wandered to the DA's meeting corner, away from the eyes of the other students. She was as relieved as anyone to see that the other refugees were keeping busy, eager to help and furious at their beloved Hogwarts being taken over by madmen. It didn't seem to matter what houses they came from; even the other Slytherins there were happy to follow Blaise's and Draco's examples. Apparently, Draco had some pull with them after the Death Eater attack a few months back.

Ginny didn't realize she'd taken a seat beside Draco on the edge of a hammock. Instinct, she though, had led her there. She didn't notice anything until he pulled her hand away from her mouth.

"I thought you'd left that disgusting habit behind on the pitch," he said, nodding toward her chewed fingernails.

"I haven't left the pitch," she said shortly, folding her hands in her lap.

"What are you hiding, Weasley?" he said in her ear.

"Her secret gouda fetish, obviously." Blaise nudged her as he sat down on her other side.

She felt a smile tug as her lip. "That's it, Zabini. Gosh, thanks for outing me. I feel like a new woman." She turned and shook her finger at Draco. "And don't you start about no women being around that you can see."

"How smooth you are, Malfoy." Blaise rolled his eyes.

"No one's ever accused Draco of charm," Millicent said, settling herself against Blaise's knees. She frowned. "Wait, except that one time when we were clubbing in Diagon Alley. Pansy mentioned something."

"I mentioned he was charming like Professor Binns is charming," Pansy reminded her, sitting at Ginny's feet and tilting her head back against her knees. She kept out of reach of Draco.

"Yes, yes, you're all so clever," he grumbled, leaning into Ginny's shoulder.

"Give 'em laps, coach," Jools said, nudging her way between Pansy and Millicent, who made room amiably.

"I should just sod it all and hex the lot of you," he retorted, folding his arms and having a little sulk. Ginny hugged his shoulders with her unbroken arm.

"Well," Neville said by way of calling them to order. "We're in a fix."

"You can say that again, only don't," Pansy said. Neville almost smiled.

"Where to begin," he began, ignoring the snickers of the others. "We're missing Ariana and Dean, who was the last person through the portrait. They could be captured or compromised. We have to decide if we need to get rid of the portrait."

Ginny saw Seamus go white and Lavender Brown clench her fists in her lap. Luna, sitting near Neville, sat twiddling the beads of her necklace and biting her lip. The thought of leaving Dean to the threat of Death Eaters made Ginny's turn. She could tell Neville was trying to play brave leader, but Dean was his friend, too. The security of their entire operation versus the life of a dear friend and comrade – Ginny clenched her fists and hated war.

Neville continued, his voice steady. "We can't give the Death Eaters access to Hogwarts. We've got Hogsmeade under siege by Death Eaters, which means no evacuation of the younger students and no re-entries for the trio when they need it, which we're pretty sure they will, and soon. It also means the Order can't access Hogsmeade or Hogwarts to help us. Snape did manage to capture Ginny and though she escaped – "

Loud cheers greeted this reminder of recent triumphs but were quenched by Neville's stern look. Ginny had once caught him practicing that look in a mirror.

"She escaped but when Snape caught her it told him something important. It told him we were still here."

"Wouldn't he have known before, though?" Padma Patil pointed out. "All the raids and everything."

"Ginny's the first refugee student to be captured," Neville told him. "Now there's proof."

"I'm sorry about that," Ginny began.

"Don't be," Draco said, glaring at Neville. "It's done."

"But actually, I have a plan," Ginny finished. Everyone's eyes turned to her.

"A plan?" Neville repeated. "What kind?"

At this propitious moment, one of the younger refugees gave a shout and pointed at the portrait. Ariana stood there, smiling serenely. Everyone sat frozen in tense silence, waiting to see if anyone would follow her through. A moment later, Dean appeared. He saw them all breathing sighs of relief and looked a bit uncomfortable.

"Sorry," he said, as Seamus and Luna flung themselves across the room to be at his side. "Aberforth and I were just talking. He tells these incredible stories. Anyway," he added, suddenly brightening as Seamus and Luna led him over to join the DA. "Good news, you lot. We found a tunnel out of Hogsmeade from the Hog's Head. We contacted the Order. They wanted to storm the castle but I said to wait until we get in touch again – I thought we should have a plan first."

Neville turned, a grim smile on his face. "Ginny was just going to elaborate on one."

"Oh, good." Dean beamed. "What's the plan, Gin?"

Ginny leaned forward, full to bursting with energy, strength, and a desire to win. "We're going to take back Hogwarts. When we do, the trio will come back. When they come back, Harry will win the war." She smiled at their stunned expressions; shrugged. "I don't know about you lot, but I'm ready to get back on a broom."

_To be concluded …_


	20. The Plan Part 1

**Author's Note**: Yes, yes, I know, it's been well over six months and I have only lame excuses to give (like I wrote a novel, traveled southeast Asia, got into grad school ... you know, the usual trite nonsense and no, I am certainly not taking a moment to brag, not even a little, how dare you all think that of me??). However, SURPRISE! Two chapters at once! Tell me that wasn't worth a bit of a wait?

And the best part is, I have to have the epilogue posted in less than three months. Why? I can't tell you but trust me, it will be a problem if I don't. So ... hopefully all this updating will make up for my shaaaaameful lackthereof this last half-year.

A quick note about this chapter: it takes pieces of the _Deathly Hallows_ plot and pieces from my own _Bend It Like Weasley_ plotline and fuses them. Anything left unexplained probably follows the _Deathly Hallows _canon. Also look for obscure references to funny movies ^_^ I had a bit of fun.

This chapter is dedicated to ALL YOU READERS (oh, and Twi, because she's coming to see me very very soon which has nothing to do with the chapter but makes me painfully happy). All you wonderful, dedicated reader/reviewers who stuck with this pathetic author and her little dabble into the Quidditch playing and D/G romancing. It's been seven years of joy, my dears, and I hope the last chapter (and following epilogue) will do justice to your patience and expectations!

Loves to all!!

J.T.

Disclaimer: "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.R.'s. Sincerest thanks to the Goddess of pro-fic . . .

_**Part I**_

**)BW(**

Ginny told them the plan. When she finished, she was greeted with silence.

"And … that's it," she prompted. "Any questions?"

"One," Neville said, tilting his head on one side as if trying to sort something out. "Ginny, are you completely mad?"

"It's possible," Ginny admitted, a little breathless. "But I really think this will work."

"And Snape won't suspect anything?" Jools said, eyebrows disappearing under her fringe.

"I doubt it," Ginny said carefully. "It's too insane to be our real plan – obviously he'll think we're fooling around or that we're not prepared until it's too late."

"I don't know," Dean said slowly. "It sounds like there're a lot of unknowns."

"There are," Ginny agreed. "But there are always going to be variables. We just have to trust that Harry, Ron, and Hermione realize what we're up to and that Voldemort will be too eager to capture Harry to pay really close attention to what's going on anywhere else."

Several people winced at the sound of the name.

"So Potter's the distraction?" Pansy said, chewing her fingernails.

"Not exactly," Ginny hedged. She didn't like to think of Ron, or Hermione for that matter, as distractions, either. "But obviously, he's the reason Voldemort would come back to Hogwarts. Once Voldemort realizes Harry is back, he's going to lose interest in what the rest of us are doing."

"Except to use us as hostages to draw Potter out," Blaise murmured.

"He's done it in the past," Dean pointed out. "He knows how much Harry cares about his friends."

"Our job is not to get caught, then," Ginny said firmly. "Harry's going to be counting on us and we've got to make a stand. He needs us to keep Voldemort's forces occupied. We're buying him time." She looked around at them. _Her_ friends. "Because that's all we can do. Harry's the Chosen One. He's the only person who can defeat Voldemort."

"And I reckon he's the only one who knows how," Draco put on, his chin in his hand.

"This plan is risky, possibly suicidal," Neville cut in. He sat tapping a quill against his open palm. "If we're going to do this, we need everyone on board. Anyone with doubts can express them now or to me privately."

Ginny stared at him. Just like that? No arguing, no coercing; he took her plan at face value? He saw the look and smiled. "Of course I have doubts. Big ones. For one thing, I don't think Snape's going to fall for it. For another, it's going to be tricky to operate out of the Room of Requirement and keep the younger students safe. We just don't have the numbers for that kind of evacuation."

"Excuse me?"

They all turned. Daniel Jones, a fourth year Slytherin; Ginny remembered Draco pointing him out. He stood just outside the DA's circle, several of his housemates behind him. Jessica, who had recently joined them as a refugee from the Carrows, smiled at the team girls.

"Jones, we're in a meeting – " Draco began irritably.

"As we should be," Jones retorted. "In case you hadn't noticed, we lost out home, too. We all love Hogwarts and even though we think it's mad to go up against You-Know-Who ..." He grinned at Draco. "Well, you're the one marched into our common room and told us to stand up and defend ourselves."

Draco, Ginny noted with some amusement, looked suddenly uncomfortable.

"Look, it's not that simple, Jones," he said. Ginny bit her lip, which twitched traitorously. "These people whose meeting you just interrupted have been tested to make sure they're trustworthy. We don't have time to initiate a bunch more of you. Weasley's plan has to happen soon."

"You can't just test someone to know they're trustworthy," Jones retorted. "What, did you use Veritaserum? There are ways of beating it, you know that. You don't trust people because you've drugged them into telling the truth. Trust takes time. We," and he waved a hand at his group of Slytherins, "don't know you lot, but Jess knows us and she knows her Quidditch team. She thinks we can help."

"I really do," Jessica said, nodding.

Neville's brow furrowed. "It's going to be dangerous. You lot know what we're going to do?"

"Tell us," Jones said.

"Or tell us what we can do to help," one of the Slytherin girls added.

"Juliet, listen to the Gryffindor who just told you this will be dangerous!" Blaise snapped. He looked like a thundercloud and Ginny knew why. "He's trying to protect you."

Juliet hefted her chin, apparently used to Blaise's temper. "You can't protect someone by locking them in a tower while you go to fight for them. We're not Gryffindors – " Several of them shook their heads vehemently – "but we care about this school and we care about our friends. And we don't want to spend the rest of our lives under an outdated megalomaniac dark lord."

"Where is all this coming from?" Draco demanded. "Why, all of a sudden, are you so keen to fight dark lords?"

"We've never had anyone tell us how to help," Juliet retorted. "That night you set us up in the common room, no Death Eaters came through. But for the first time, we were taking care of ourselves and each other. We can do that again, if you let us."

Ginny glanced around at the others. Blaise scowled mightily, which didn't surprise Ginny at all. His almost obsessive need to protect his friends and his house was no secret to anyone anymore. Draco looked as if he was having some kind of epiphany. Millicent and Pansy stared at the other Slytherins with unreadable expressions. Ginny met Neville's eye across the circle. He opened his mouth to speak, but Jones beat him to it.

"How I see it," Jones said, glancing at Pansy and Millicent. "A group of girls started this secret Quidditch team. When people found out, they hated them and threw rocks and that. And suddenly, those girls are tearing the pitch up at Quidditch matches and showing people that the four houses aren't as different as we all thought." He shrugged. "Anyway, if Hermione Granger can play Quidditch, our lot can help fight for Hogwarts. Maybe even help win."

"If you're planning what we think you're planning," Jessica added, "then you're going to need people to help empty the castle of the students who don't want to fight. You lot are all going to be needed in the actual fight, but what about the little stuff? Let us help get people out, bring people in, set up hospital, whatever!"

"Don't make us sit around and hope for the best without actually getting to do anything," Jones said. "Think of how you'd feel if it were you."

Ginny shuddered. The thought of doing nothing while her loved ones were out there risking their lives ... she saw that most of the rest of the DA were thinking the same thing. Blaise still scowled but the fight had gone out of him.

"Well, Longbottom?" Jones said, turning suddenly on Neville. "You're the leader of this little coup. Are we in?"

Slowly, Neville nodded. "We really do need all the help we can get." He offered a hand, which Jones shook. "And the first thing you can do is ask around and see if any of the other refugees here feel the same way you lot do. If so, we need all hands."

Ginny blinked. "So we're actually going through with this plan? No one's arguing?"

Neville glanced around but Ginny could tell no one was going to say anything. "I told you I think the plan is mad," Neville said, grinning at her. "I also think it could work."

**)BW(**

The DA had no idea where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were. That was the first problem. If they'd had any idea where the trio were – if they were approaching Hogsmeade, if they were in deepest Africa – the DA would have had a time line. Old Abe promised to alert them if anything at all happened to stir up the Death Eaters in Hogsmeade. Ghosts and portraits they could trust promised to patrol and keep their eyes and ears open. Even with those alerts in place, they wouldn't have much time or warning.

"So we're on alert at all times," Longbottom said flatly. He sat with Draco, Pavarti Patil, Ginny, and Pansy. Parvati and Pansy leaned close, eager and tense. Ginny sulked because her arm was still broken and she couldn't go on raids. Draco wasn't at all displeased. The longer she stayed locked up in the room, the better he'd feel. If there were any gods listening, he thought, please could they keep her injured long enough to miss the battle of Hogwarts?

"How's that going to work?" the ornery redhead asked, drumming her uninjured fingers on the table top. "Staying on alert at all times means round-the-clock watch and all that."

"Sure, and we make a plan, then we sit on it until we need it," Longbottom told her. He eyed her drumming fingers with obvious annoyance. Little wonder – Ginny went to Longbottom multiple times a day to complain or beg to be let out of the room or demand when the next raid on the hospital wing would be.

"It'll just have to be something we're all ready for at a minute's notice," Pansy said, alternating between chewing her lip and her fingernails. A shame, Draco thought. Her nails had actually started growing back in since she'd had to leave off Quidditch.

"We have the enchanted coins," Parvati pointed out. "That's a start."

"Only how do we know if someone's activating their Galleon because it's time for battle or because they've been caught by the Carrows?" Draco countered. "No, it's got to be something unique, something we'd only ever use for one thing."

"New Galleons?" Ginny said grumpily. "Or perhaps a Sickle for those of us too poor for more than one Galleon."

"Gin," Longbottom said through his teeth. Draco had never seen the Gryffindor's nerves so frayed.

Ginny rubbed her forehead. "Sorry," she muttered.

"Look, why don't you go organize a hospital raid?" Longbottom said, throwing up his hands and slumping back in his chair.

Her eyes lit up. "Really? But I thought you said we didn't have enough people."

"We don't," he said pointedly. "But if you're stuck in here another day, I'll go spare, so get a move on. You don't need more than a couple people and since it's dinner now, I reckon the upper halls will be pretty empty."

Ginny dove across the table and kissed his cheek. "Thank you so much, Nev!" She bounded across the room, shouting, "Smith, Creevys! I need you!"

"Really, thank you, Nev." Parvati patted his arm as he let out a long sigh.

Draco kept his gratitude and resentment to himself. It was true that no one was as obnoxious as stir-crazy Ginny, but getting ahold of Skele-Gro and healing her arm meant she'd be out running the Death-Eater-ridden school again soon. Ginny's favorite thing to do was raid.

Draco glowered at Longbottom.

"What?" Longbottom demanded, glaring back. "Don't you start, Malfoy."

"Oh, sod off," he muttered.

"You're as bad as Potter was with me," Pansy hissed at him. "Tuck it in, Draco, we've got a battle to win."

Draco hadn't realized how frayed his own nerves were until he stuck his tongue out at her. To their credit, Parvati and Longbottom tried not to smile.

**)BW(**

Ginny's arm healed just fine after an excruciating night of Skele-Gro. She thought maybe being allowed to return to raids and the fight against the Carrows would lift her spirits, make her feel useful again.

They went two weeks after Ginny's capture by Snape with no news or new information about Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They had a plan, one they could put in motion at a moment's notice. Unfortunately, since they didn't know if they'd get even a moment, they were forced to return to a moderately normal schedule. Ginny tried to keep busy with plans, raids, and dueling practice. She helped organize the younger students, who continued to arrive almost daily. She rounded up older students who were keen to help in the final battle. She even took to tossing a Quaffle around with anyone who knew anything about Quidditch.

"You're quite good, you know," Daniel Jones told her as he tossed the Quaffle back to her. "I heard you were quite sloppy at the catching business."

Ginny glanced around quickly. Blaise, seated on a nearby sofa, whistled and twiddled his thumbs when she caught his eye. She thought about throwing the Quaffle at him – her aim was so good she was sure she wouldn't hit anyone else. He must have seen the gleam in her eye because he ducked behind Draco and Jools. Draco glanced up, noticed her glare, and rolled his eyes. "Jones is right, Weasley. Without Blaise, you'd still be fumbling every pass."

"I hate you, _coach_, I just thought you should know," she retorted, feinting a throw. Draco gave a girly shriek and dropped down on top of Blaise, who grunted in pain. Satisfied, and enjoying the laughter of the other team girls, Ginny returned her attention to Jones.

"You lot really serious about going pro?" he went on, catching her throw easily and lobbing the Quaffle back.

"We were," Ginny murmured, catching the pass in one hand and tossing it back. "Before our parents started pitching fits and the Carrows moved in and Voldemort started poking stupid evil his head out."

"So stuff's rotten now," Jones said, wincing a little at the sound of You-Know-Who's name but catching her return throw easily. "What happens after the war?"

"You mean if we're alive?" she retorted, fumbling her next catch.

"I reckon if you look at life that way it'll be one wicked disappointment after another," Jones said, diving to catch her next throw, which went wide. "Now in Slytherin, we think of everything as a temporary setback. Sure, there's a war. But some of us are bound to get through it. Why not you and your team? Sure, your parents object. But you won't always be underage – someday their rules won't matter."

Ginny stared at him, Quaffle forgotten. "Are you sure you're a Slytherin?" she said at last.

"I think you know enough of us by now not to ask," Jones retorted. Then he snapped his fingers. "Pick it up, Weasley! If this is how slow you are on the pitch, I can understand why you missed so many passes!"

Ginny couldn't get the discussion out of her head. After Hogwarts ... after the war ... what then?

**)BW(**

Another month of waiting lulled them all into a false sense of security. Bonds began to form between students. The team girls were no longer an ostracized group of misfits but leaders of a new kind of interaction between the four houses. Their friendships built bridges soon crossed by other students. Students began to know each other in new ways as they taught and learned from each other. Tense moments cropped up daily between students but problems were often solved more quickly and easily by their housemates.

"All this good will toward man is nauseating," Draco grumbled.

"You know you love it, _coach_," Ginny said. They sat back to back on the floor near the hearth, each playing Solitaire with their own packs of Exploding Snap cards. "Anyway, you started it."

"I didn't start your ruddy team," he retorted, pressing back against her and turning his head away as half his cards exploded. "I was dragged – no, I was manipulated into joining it."

"People are calling it _your_ team," Ginny said. He could hear her grin. "Say what you like, you helped make us what we are. We owe you and so does the school." She put on a falsetto voice. "Oh, Draco, you're such a _hero_ – "

"Right, stop that!" he hissed, as people nearby stared and giggled.

"Oh, my knight in shining armor," Ginny cried, throwing her arms wide. "Come to save us all from – "

Draco turned right around, pinning her arms to her sides with one arm and managing to cover her mouth with his free hand. "Stop that right now, Weasel, or I swear ... "

"Oh, no one's looking now," Blaise said in passing. He skipped out of the way of Ginny's arm, which she'd managed to pull free of Draco's.

"My, my, everyone's after me this week," Blaise said innocently as he swaggered off to sit with Pansy and Hannah Abbot.

"I say we put snakes in his bed," Ginny suggested thoughtfully around Draco's hand. "I hear he's dead scared of them."

"And where do you get your information from?" Draco wanted to know.

"Pansy can be extremely talkative," Ginny said mysteriously, making no move to escape from the arm still locked around her. Instead, she tilted her body toward the fire and leaned back against Draco's chest.

"Are you sure you're a Gryffindor?" Draco asked, leaning back on his hands and enjoying the warmth of Ginny's back against his chest.

She laughed. "I'm not sure what any of us are anymore. Does it matter? It's not like we even have houses at this point."

Draco sighed. "No, I guess we don't."

"Worried?" she asked. Her short hair glistened in the firelight, tickling his chin.

"We don't have houses, half of us are covered in bruises and scars," he said slowly. He pushed himself upright, lifting Ginny's arm for inspection. "Look what a mess you are," he murmured, fingers brushing over a fading burn and new bruise.

"No worse than if we were having Quidditch practice all the time," she said, shrugging it off. "Except the coach wouldn't look as bad as his girls do." She turned suddenly, reaching up to brush a gash that ran from his temple to his chin. "Why haven't you let anyone heal this?"

"Same reason you've not dealt with the mess on your arm," he pointed out. "We're low on most supplies. Anyway, don't I look more manly?"

Ginny smiled, though it came out wobbly.

"Hey." He caressed her cheek, trying to ignore the faded green and purple around her eye. "You're the one who said the outside scratches are no big deal."

"It's the stuff inside that matters," she finished, brushing a hand over his chest. "Draco ..."

He was leaning down to kiss her when both decks of Exploding Snap cards went up in a spectacular cloud of smoke. Ginny burst out laughing as bits of both decks rained down on their hair.

"You know, you're not supposed to let two decks mix," Millicent called from a sofa, where she sat wearing reading glasses and skimming through several thick books about hexes. "What's wrong with you lot? Trying to get us all incinerated?"

"Oh, sod off, Bulstrode," Draco grumbled as others laughed and Ginny, still giggling like a lunatic, picked bits of Exploding Snap card out of his hair.

Moments like this one, so relaxed and comfortable and smoky, made Draco wish they could stay there forever.

)BW(

When the alarm finally sounded, Draco considered it a miracle they were ready.

"Draco." Blaise shook him awake. Even through sleep-fogged confusion, Draco could hear the urgency in his friend's voice. "Get up, mate, quickly."

"What's going on?" Draco asked, stumbling from his cot.

"We've just got word from Old Abe," Blaise said, dragging him into the main room where the rest of the DA was assembling.

"What is it, what's wrong?" Susie Bones demanded, her eyes wide as she tied on her dressing gown.

"We've just got word from Hogsmeade," Longbottom said without preamble. He didn't have to raise his voice. They were all listening. "Something big is happening in Hogsmeade. We don't know what yet – we just know the Death Eaters are hopping like mad things."

"What do you mean?" Jools demanded. Ginny and Susie on either side of her, each with a hand on her shoulder. Jools' hair, now completely re-grown after weeks of captivity under Ananda, was tumbled all over her head.

"They've started looting houses and businesses all over the village," Longbottom explained grimly. Like Jools, several people stood close around him. They knew he was someone they could count on, despite his battered appearance. Longbottom went on more raids than anyone else. He was the strongest of the lot. "Without warning or provocation. They haven't done anything like since they set up in Hogsmeade a few months ago. Something's tipped them off."

"Don't they have wards around the village?" Loony Lovegood asked, her head on one side. "To tell if someone goes or comes by Apparation or Portkey?"

"Old Abe says they do," Longbottom said, nodding. "They also have spells that can detect powerful magic, if it's used."

"So one of the villagers did something and upset them?" Dean Thomas said slowly.

"Nah, mate," Seamus Finnigan said, shaking his head. "Everyone in Hogsmeade's been keeping their heads down."

"What if it's Ron?" Ginny's lip twitched uneasily. "I mean, the trio. What if it's them and they Apparated into the village?"

"Why in Merlin's name would they do that?" Pansy demanded, pushing her fingers through her tangled hair. "Hogwarts is under lock and key; Potter would know better than to burst into Hogsmeade."

"Why?" Millicent said darkly. "For all we know, they've been completely out of touch with everything that's been going on."

"They've probably got the invisibility cloak," Lavender Brown added. Several people murmured agreement. "If they did Apparate, they probably kept under the cloak so no one would see them. They're bound to know Potter's been blamed for Dumbledore's death, so they'd know at least to keep out of sight. That might be why the Death Eaters are raiding buildings – they're firing blind."

"We have to tell Old Abe about the cloak," Longbottom said. "We need him to know what to look for – or rather, what _not_ to look for – if the trio comes to his door."

"But, Neville, think for a moment." This was an ironic thing to hear from Loony Lovegood, Draco thought with a whisper of humor. "Suppose the magic from Ariana Dumbledore's portrait is the thing that alerted them. Suppose they turn up at Old Abe's and one of us is coming through the portrait or is at the Hog's Head."

"I doubt it," Blaise said thoughtfully. "We've been using the portrait all this time without them noticing. It wouldn't make any difference using it now if the Death Eaters' spells couldn't detect it before."

"Anyway, we have to risk it," Longbottom said with finality. "We have to know what's got the Death Eaters excited."

"Is it time, then?" Lisa Turpin asked, her voice trembling just a bit. "Shall we start?"

Everyone looked at Longbottom.

"I think it's time," he said. "Get ready and meet back here in ten minutes."

**)BW(**

Ginny didn't know how she found her clothes, shoes, and wand with so much going through her mind. Somehow, she managed to be back by Neville's side in less than five minutes. So did most of the rest of the DA.

"I'm going through the portrait," Neville told them. "Start setting up. If I'm not back an hour, begin everything but the evacuation without me. We can't send anyone else through the portrait until the Death Eaters head for Hogwarts and Hogsmeade is clear. Understood?"

Everyone nodded, wands in hand.

"Good luck," was all Neville said, before he turned and disappeared through Ariana's portrait.

"You heard the man!" Jools said into a moment's uncertain silence. "We have a job to do – let's do it!"

Ginny took a breath, let it out, and went to round up her team.

"You all know where to go," she said when the ten of them had crowded around her. None of them were members of the DA – as the only member who was, Ginny was in charge of them. "No unnecessary risks." She gave Daniel Jones and his friend Juliet stern looks. "I'm serious, this is not the time. We'll all be needed later, so we all need to make it back here. You have fifteen minutes to speak to as many ghosts and portraits as you can – when I activate the Galleon, meet outside the door. Any questions?"

They shook their heads.

"Let's go." Ginny hefted her wand in one hand, the Marauder's Map in the other, and led the way to the door. Once there, she chose what seemed like a safe route for each of them and sent them on their way.

She herself took the most dangerous route. She had the map and could tell if anyone was coming.

She made her rounds without incident, speaking only with portraits and ghosts she knew were trustworthy. She met the Fat Lady last, whispering a few words. The old lady nodded and disappeared from her frame.

She met the others outside the Room of Requirement.

"How did it go?" she asked quietly. The corridor was empty and didn't have any portraits so it was safe to talk.

"Fine," Jones said. He and Juliet were panting. They'd gone the farthest. "We got at least twenty portraits and four ghosts."

"We found the Bloody Baron!" one of their friends piped up, indicating her partner and herself.

"Wonderful," Ginny said, smiling. "He's sure to tell Snape."

"Snape and the Carrows," the girl said, returning the grin. "He promised he would."

Ginny opened the Room of Requirement while the others reported back. So far, she thought, so good. She caught sight of Draco, bent over a stationary map of Hogwarts with Pansy, Jools, Susie, and Millicent.

"How'd it go?" Jools asked, pulling Ginny into the circle.

"As expected," she said. "Everyone will be talking about it and soon. The teachers will be ready."

"Hope 'soon' is soon enough," Draco muttered. He still hadn't looked at Ginny.

"We won't know until Neville comes back from Hogsmeade anyway," Susie pointed out.

"What exactly did you tell the portraits and ghosts?" Pansy asked Ginny.

"Well, we thought if we told slightly different things to each portrait and ghost, it would seem less like a plant," Ginny said. "Of course, we all promised only to talk to ghosts and portraits we knew or trusted, but even that's not fool-proof."

"But the gist?" Pansy prompted.

"Oh, easy. Harry Potter's back at Hogwarts."

"You think it'll work?" Millicent asked, brow furrowed and fingertips drumming the tabletop.

"Won't know until we get word from Hogsmeade," Ginny said, shrugging. "Until the Death Eaters bite, we'll just have to wait."

"Better hope they beat You-Know-Who here," Jools muttered. "Okay, coach, so we're sticking with the original plan?"

"Right." Draco glanced up at Ginny. She saw an aching array of emotion in his eyes but all he did was catch one of her short plaits in his fingers and give it a gentle tug. Ginny offered him a small, reassuring smile. Jools looked quickly away and guilt wriggled in Ginny's chest. She didn't think she deserved the reassuring look Jools sent her a second later, nor the companionable arm around the shoulders.

"It's lucky we've got you," Ginny told her friend, returning the half-hug. "Strategist extraordinaire."

"You know we really need Hermione for that," Jools countered, though she dimpled at the compliment. "Anyway, it'll be a job getting everyone in place so it doesn't look like we all came out of the castle."

"We've sorted that already," Draco said, sounding a little impatient. "Remember, strategy doesn't work unless you believe in it."

"Yes, coach!" Ginny, Jools, Susie, Millicent, and Pansy chimed. He glared at them.

"Once your girls, always your girls," Blaise piped up as he joined them. "We're set to move out, Draco."

"Just waiting on Longbottom," Draco said, throwing a glance at the empty portrait in the corner. "We ready to move the younger students?"

"Ginny's got the map," Blaise said, holding out a hand. Ginny tucked the Marauder's Map into it.

"I've just been into the hall!" Justin Finch-Fletchely came flying into the circle, panting. "The ghosts are assembled whenever we're ready."

"Everyone's fitted with communication charms?" Draco asked.

Justin gave him an unimpressed look. "What are we, amateurs? Clear out, Malfoy, some of us were here the first round." He was referring to the original founding of the DA during Ginny's fourth year.

"It's a matter of professional pride for the Hufflepuffs," Ginny said in an amused undertone as Justin sauntered back to the table he and Ernie MacMillan had set up, with the help of Lisa Turpin and Padma Patil.

"Never mind, anyway," Blaise said, patting Draco's arm. "Let him have his little ponce, Malfoy. It won't hurt you."

"I should hurt _him_," Draco muttered, cracking his knuckles. "Hufflepuffs."

"Oy, coach." Susie lifted her eyebrows.

"Present company excluded," Draco said quickly. Susie put her hands on her hips. He shrugged. "It's a matter of professional pride for Slytherins."

"Yeah, yeah. Just see you don't take it too far," Susie said, her lip twitching.

Ginny opened her mouth to add something in Susie's defense, when Dean's voice broke through the busy chatter of the room. "Oy, you lot, shut it!"

Everyone turned to look at him. He was standing with Seamus and Luna by Ariana's portrait. Ariana was back but –

"Where's Neville?" Seamus demanded.

"Neville says to tell you it's time," Ariana's sweet voice rang across the room, making quite a few people jump. No one had ever heard her speak. "He says you must begin now. He'll be back in a few minutes."

There was a moment's stunned silence.

"Right, you lot!" said Terry Boot, who had been busy with some complicated spell work with several other students. "If Neville says it's time, you all know what that means. Move!"

And then it was a swirl of voices, a pounding of feet, and controlled chaos as everyone made for their corners of the room. Ginny hugged all the team girls and housemates she could reach. She looked around for Draco but he had vanished. An ache in her chest, Ginny made for her bunk. Ducking under it, she yanked out her broom. Tucking her wand up her sleeve, she turned back to the door.

"Gin!"

She turned, heart pounding.

"Don't get hurt, do you hear me?" Draco said, tugging her into his arms and clinging to her for a moment.

"Yes, _coach_," she said in his ear, fisting her hands in his robes and dropping her broom onto the bed behind him.

"I'm serious!" he snapped.

"I can't promise anything," she told him desperately. "This is too important!"

"Fine, I'll make you a deal," he said, gritting his teeth as he pulled back and stared almost frantically into her face. "You stay alive and I'll keep on with the ruddy Quidditch team after this war's over!"

Ginny hiccupped a shaky laugh. "You damn well better, Malfoy!" she said. "I worked too hard on catching reverse passed not to make use of it."

He caught her face in both hands, running his thumbs over her cheeks. Her eyes welled with tears she tried to restrain and then he was kissing her, his hands sliding over her hair and back and returning to her face. His lips moved to her nose, her forehead, her eyelids.

"Don't do anything stupid," he said when he finally pulled back.

"I love you," she said, and in the shock of surprise he let her go. She grabbed her broom and fled, knowing she'd never leave otherwise. Swiping at her eyes, she joined the group already leaving through the door. She didn't look back.

**)BW(**

Draco watched her go, his hands balled into fists. He'd never watched her leave before.

"Come on, Malfoy," Dean Thomas said, suddenly beside him and tugging his arm. "We need to start the evacuation."

"Right." Draco gripped his wand and joined Blaise by the door.

"Remember to bite down on that cap over your molar to start the communication charm," Lisa Turpin told them and the others gathered there. "Remember the pattern – Slytherins, four taps pause two taps. You'll be speaking to Justin."

"Oh, joy," Draco muttered. "Bet he'll get us caught on purpose."

"Don't hack him off or he just might," Blaise retorted under his breath.

"Ravenclaws," Lisa went on, ignoring them both and continuing with her list. She finished speaking to Michael Corner and Luna Lovegood, Seamus Finnagin and Colin Creevey, and Zacharias Smith and Laura Madley.

"All right, that's it," Lisa finished. "Everyone get ready to move out. Justin, coast clear?"

Finch-Fletchley, bent over the Marauder's Map with Jessica, Lavender Brown, and Padma Patil, nodded. "You're all clear on the seventh floor. Get moving. The ghosts are waiting outside."

They moved into the hallway, each biting the pattern Lisa had told them into their back molar cap.

" – patronize me, Patil, just because you're a bloody super-genius," Finch-Fletchley was saying.

"I say, would you mind very much paying attention to keeping Draco and I from certain doom?" Blaise murmured.

"Oh, of course, your bloody highness," Finch-Fletchley's voice piped into Draco's ear. "Perhaps you'd like me to guide you to the kitchens for – ow! Patil, I swear to god – "

"We're doomed," Draco said glumly.

"And to think, you haven't shagged Ginny yet," Blaise said. "Oops, I mean – " He covered his mouth daintily with one hand and gave Draco an innocent look.

"You haven't shagged her yet?" Finch-Fletchley piped up. "My god, Malfoy, what's the bleeding holdup?"

"I hate you all and I hate the universe," Draco said. "Hello, Baron. Fine evening."

"Don't start, boy," the Bloody Baron said, his lip curling as Draco and Blaise approached him. Draco grinned. He liked the old maniac, in spite of himself.

"Are you ready, sir?" Blaise asked politely.

"Course I'm bloody ready," the Baron scoffed. "I've been waiting in this hallway for – "

"Then for Merlin's sake, get a move on," Draco cut him off, knowing if he didn't take up the banner, the Baron might sit there all night. "Or shall I find another ghost?"

"You think you're so clever," the Baron growled, but he turned and floated away down the corridor.

"This is the crack team that's going to foil the Dark Lord's evil plot?" Draco grumbled as he and Blaise followed in the Baron's wake. "If I had the energy, I'd off myself now and the Death Eaters the bother."

**)BW(**

Ginny activated her communicator charm, tapping at the uncomfortable cap over her tooth, in time to hear Jessica say, "Finch-Fletchley, I'm going to let Dennis at you with a bucket of eels if you get Draco and Blaise killed!"

"Jess, we're flying very fast, might we have an update, say, yesterday?" Jools demanded softly.

"Sorry! Sorry, Jools!" Jessica wailed. "Keep going until you reach the fifth corridor on the left. It's deserted; you can fly out from there."

"Please do just mention if, you know, any Death Eaters or dark lords turns up with wands ready," Millicent groused under her breath. "If you're not too busy flirting with Hufflepuffs."

"Mill, shut up," Jools said, as Jessica protested loudly. "People, no more talk until we're in the woods."

They flew, silent shadows along moonlit corridors. They saw no one, not even ghosts. It was eerie, almost giving Ginny the feeling that they were playing some kind of game, pretending there was danger when there was none. That itself was an illusion, she knew. She wasn't scared yet but she knew sooner or later she would be.

They reached the small window Jessica had told them about. Adrienne Abbot, flying toward the front, cast a silent _Alohomora_ charm and the window swung noiselessly open. The window frame was barely large enough for one person on a broom to fit through. They each did, maneuvering carefully through the small space. There were twenty-five flyers in all – twenty-five against untold multitudes.

Ginny swallowed. The night beyond the window was cool and silent, except the chirping of early summer frogs and the occasional ominous howl from the Forbidden Forest. Ginny thought distantly that it would, in another life, be a perfect night for a walk round the lake with Draco. Or possibly, a lakeside snog ...

Jools banked toward the lake, keeping as high as the brooms could handle. They couldn't risk being seen or they'd ruin everything. They were high above the forest on the opposite side of the lake when Jools signaled. As one, the group descended. Ginny felt the rush, the synchronicity of her team and those who were joining them tonight. She scanned the grounds as they came in for a landing at the edge of the woods. They seemed empty and calm. No sign of a plow of Death Eaters from Hogsmeade yet.

They set down behind the trees, fanning out in a long line.

"Omnioculars," Jools whispered, her voice carrying over the communicator charm. "Spread out and keep a weather eye. It's up to us to start the rumpus."

"Rumpus," Parvati giggled, nudging Ginny.

"How mature you are, Patil," Pansy muttered, pinching her arm in passing. Parvati squealed a tiny squeal and slapped at Pansy's hand. Ginny bit down a nervous giggle and reached into the pouch at her waist. She withdrew the Omnioculars stashed there. She could see some of the Hogwarts lawn and the entire castle. It was beautiful in the clear light of the almost-full moon. She glanced down the line of people. All of them stared through Omnioculars, scanning different parts of the field, woods, and castle. Jools and Millicent were setting up spells around the group, to detect the approach of anyone or anything that didn't belong with them.

They were there for an hour before anyone saw anything. The moon started to descend toward the horizon. No daylight for a few hours yet. Ginny was staring through the Omnioculars and actually feeling bored (amazing, given how tense part of her was) when Susie, standing nearby, gave a low whistled. Ginny looked quickly at her, all senses snapping to attention. Up and down the line, little whistles went up. Susie pointed toward the castle gates. Ginny peered through her Omnioculars. She saw them at the same time everyone else did: tiny, shadowy bumps moving toward the grounds.

Ginny scanned the rest of the lawn and drew a sharp breath. She nudged Susie and pointed. Three figures left the castle and walked toward the gates.

"Jess, heads up!" Jools hissed into the communicator. "Death Eaters at the gates. The Carrows and Snape just left the castle. Start the evacuation! We can buy you a half-hour to clear the lower floors."

"We're already on it," Jessica said, her voice a whisper in Ginny's ear. "Buy us as much time as you can. Old Abe says almost all the Death Eaters have cleared out of Hogsmeade. Just a few left. He thinks he and the Order can deal with them."

"Can he get the Order into Hogwarts?" Ginny asked. "McGonagall and the teachers will need all the help they can get, never mind the DA."

"We'll see, won't we?" Jessica countered. "Go time, team."

Ginny took a last look through her Omnioculars. The Carrows and Snape had almost reached the gates. "Now?" someone hissed.

"No," Jools said, squinting. "Not quite yet."

They waited in tense silence. Snape and the Carrows reached the gates. The figures on the other side were still only shadows. The gate creaked open a moment later. Jools signaled and they mounted their brooms. "Wait for my signal," Jools said quietly. "Don't take off yet. We need their backs turned."

Another moment did the trick and Ginny knew they were all wondering the same thing.

Was Voldemort with the Death Eaters?

**)BW(**

Draco was just returning to the room with a batch of terrified Slytherin first years. He hustled them toward the portrait of Adriana Dumbledore. Neville Longbottom was back, pacing in front of the portrait. Draco paused. "Longbottom, where is she?" he demanded. Ariana Dumbedore wasn't in her picture.

"Don't know," Longbottom said, his whole body tense. "She turned and left a minute ago. She wouldn't come back when I called her. It must be something on Old Abe's end."

"God, I hope it's something good." Draco thought of all the reasons Ariana might have taken off and didn't like any of them.

"Maybe Old Abe wants to send a message?" Dean Thomas suggested. He sounded as worried as Draco felt.

"Never mind for now," Longbottom said. "We've got space. Let's just keep bringing the evacuees in and sort out what to do with them when Ariana comes back."

"Right," Draco said. He turned to check with Blaise about making another run –

"She's coming back!" Seamus Finnigan called. Everyone stilled, turning to face the portrait.

Three people stepped out onto the carpet, so worn and thin they might have been ghosts.

No one saw Blaise move. Suddenly, he was across the room with Hermione Granger crushed against his chest.

"Oy, steady on, Zabini!" Ron Weasley said grouchily as he and Harry Potter took smart steps away from the touching scene. "Anyone seen my sister?"

And then the whole room descended on them.

Draco stood well back as the short reunion ballooned out. Blaise had Granger in his arms and wouldn't let go of her for love or money. Longbottom, Thomas, and Finnigan stood with Potter and Weasley and kept slapping them on the back. All their housemates were clustered around them when Longbottom finally broke everything up. "Right, you lot!" he called with an uncontrollable grin. "We've got people counting on us. Get back to the map. Malfoy, get yourself ready for another run." He paused, beaming. "Someone let the flying team know it's now or never. And that the trio's back." A resounding cheer went up around the room and then people scattered.

Draco hurried to the map. It was time. He took the communication charm from Jessica (who thoughtfully cast a cleaning charm on it before handing it over). She grinned at him and went to take his place helping with the evacuation. "Hello, ladies," Draco said into the communicator as he popped it over his tooth.

"Hi, coach!" his girls whispered.

"Watch who you're calling a lady," one of the boys who wasn't a team girl grumbled.

"Malfoy." Granger appeared at his side, Blaise glued to her side. "Can I say hi?"

Draco removed the cap from his tooth, cast a hasty cleaning charm, and handed it over. Granger stuffed it into her mouth. "Hi, everyone!"

"Hermione!" came an ear-splitting shriek, followed back immediate sounds of shushing from Jools and Susie.

"I'm sorry I can't fly with you," she said.

"Hermione, are my brother and Harry there?" came Ginny's anxious voice. Draco's chest tightened.

"They're here," Granger said. "I've got to go. Kick Death Eater arse!" she shouted, and there was another loud cheer followed by shushing.

Draco took the cap back from Granger, who mouthed a "Thanks, coach" at him and a cleaning charm at the cap. "Right, Jools, it's time. Get in the air."

**)BW(**

Ginny felt like her chest might burst. A fierce courage coursed through her.

Ron was alive. She had to protect him.

She glanced at Jools just as her friend gave the signal. As one, the group mounted and took off. They flew single file, high above the grounds. Ginny focused on their objectives – distract Death Eaters until the signaled to retreat and cause as much confusion and damage as possible.

She followed close behind Susie, the thrill of the air rushing across her skin and through her hair. The Death Eaters moved slowly from the gate toward the castle. Ginny saw shapes below that were clearly not Death Eaters. She didn't like to think what magical creatures the Death Eaters might have brought.

"Nice and high," Draco said into the communicator. Ginny's heart fluttered, his calm voice adding a layer to her courage. "Do not let them see you."

Jools motioned and they all rose a few meters higher into the air. In formation, they coasted just fast enough for speed but not fast enough to make noise. Silent in the early summer breeze, they soared above the castle, only stopping when they floated directly above the group below.

"Weasley, Boot," Draco said. "It's time. The rest of you – form up for the first run."

Ginny and Jools ascended above the rest of the group. Susie and Betina joined them. "You first," Jools whispered. Ginny pulled a small vial from her pocket. Susie and Betina moved in close on either side of her. She held the vial to her lips and waited.

"When I give the word," Draco said. "First formation Beaters and first offense, go. Weasley, when they go, you go."

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Three ... two ... one!"

Three things happened at once. First, Ginny threw back the small vial of potion. Second, a group of seventh years descended like bats out of hell on the Death Eaters, firing off as many wordless hexes as they could before they were spotted. Third, a group of Beaters shot down toward the castle doors, not twenty meters from the group of Death Eaters, and fired spells at two trunks that sat there. When eight Bludgers burst from their boxes, the Beaters slammed them toward the Death Eaters with all possible force and the battle exploded on the field.

Ginny doubled over in agony as the Death Eaters shouted and tried to figure out what kind of hell had suddenly happened. The Beaters buzzed around like angry hornets. Ginny's stomach twisted as her whole body shifted and changed. She felt herself expanding into her too-large robes. Her hair shrank back into her head. Millicent and Betina held her on her broom and held the broom as well, just in case she lost her grip.

"I'm okay," she gasped when she was sure she was. A deep voice boomed from her chest. "How do I look?"

"Like a Weasley boy," Betina said, grinning. "Jools, go."

Jools tossed back her potion and went through the same agonizing change as Ginny, with Betina and Susie there to hold her on her broom.

"Weasley, Boot," Draco's voice cut in. "Are you ready?"

"We're set," Jools said in Hermione's voice.

"Then go, _now_. Bones, Johnson, join the offensive. Beaters, drive them back!" he added, his attention returning to the battle. "They're too close to the doors. We've got an evacuation to finish."

Ginny and Jools looked at each other. "Goggles off," Jools said. They wrapped the night vision goggles round their brooms and dove toward the front steps. It was terrifying, Ginny thought, being that close to the battle without her wand drawn. She drew level with Jools.

"Give them a minute," Jools said, squinting into the battle. Ginny gnawed her lip, jumping every time a spell came too close.

The battle was barely controlled chaos, Ginny saw. From the height she now had as whichever Weasley twin she was, she could see the tangle of half-blind Death Eaters and massive looming forms of creatures that were not human.

"Keep driving them back," Draco called over the communicator. "Pans, light up Weasley and Boot."

Pansy shot passed the front steps and fired a brilliant balloon of light at Ginny and Jools. Ginny squinted, clinging to her broom and preparing to mount again. Then she heard it. "That's Weasley!" someone bellowed. "Granger and Weasley! On the stairs."

"Girls, get out of there!" Draco roared in Ginny's ear. They didn't need telling twice. They had the attention of half the Death Eaters now. They leapt onto their brooms and shot over the heads of the crowd. When they were twenty meters away, they dismounted and began to run.

"Hermione's legs are so short!" Jools panted. "Coach?"

"Keep running and don't look back." His voice a tense wire, tight enough to snap with a touch. "You've drawn most of the Death Eaters and a few of the creatures they brought. First offensive, follow the exodus. Second offensive, stay behind to block the doors. Those of you on defense, you see so much as a whiff of dark lord and you sound the alarm, understand?"

A few voices acknowledged. Ginny could barely hear over the pounding in her ears. She could hear the multitude of footsteps behind them. "Keep running, girls," Draco ordered. "When I give the word, take off." Ginny didn't question but she did stumble. She wasn't used to Fred's long legs. Jools, in Hermione's body, caught her arm and hauled her up. Ginny gasped and kept pace. She'd nearly ruined everything. She could just make out the shape they were headed for.

The Quidditch Pitch.

Draco's voice suddenly snapped over the charm. "Everyone listen up," he said, his voice so tight it might snap. "Pansy just spotted the Dark Lord. He's headed for the Forbidden Forest."

"Why isn't he going toward the school?" Jools demanded.

"He knows he won't have to," Draco said, his tone making Ginny go cold. "He's got hostages. He's going to draw Potter out."

**)BW(**

"Who's You-Know-Who taken?" Longbottom demanded, throwing himself at the table. Padma Patil and Justin Finch-Fletchley were bent so far over the map their noses were almost touching it.

"Some of his Death Eaters grabbed kids from the orphanage in Hogsmeade, I think," Patil murmured, squinting. "I used to do volunteer work there – I recognize some of those names." She swallowed and Loony Lovegood, at work nearby, put an arm around her.

"Where's Harry now?" Longbottom asked.

"He's ... I think he's near the Ravenclaw common room," Patil said, squinting down at the map. "Yeah, he and Ron and Hermione are just outside."

"What are they doing near Ravenclaw?" Finch-Fletchley mumbled.

"They asked me for the password before they left," Lovegood said dreamily. "I expect they wanted something from the common room."

"You let them into our common room?" Patil demanded, forgetting her orphans for a moment.

"What, it's not like they're going to steal anything," Finch-Fletchley said, rolling his eyes. "Go on, Patil, we're at war."

Draco's eyes returned to the map, watching his Quidditch players tear a line of confusion through the ranks of the Death Eaters.

"Who's going to tell Potter about the kids?" he murmured as he watched Ginny and Jools zip off toward the Quidditch pitch, a hoard of bad news on their tail.

"Let him finish whatever he's up to in Ravenclaw," Longbottom said grimly. "Then we'll tell him."

"Don't your reckon You-Know-Who plans to tell him somehow?" Lovegood asked. "I mean, he doesn't know we can see him or anything. How is Harry supposed to know there are hostages?"

"I think we should wait until some of the Order get here," said Longbottom. "Harry's going to need backup and we're still not even close to finished with the evacuation."

"Not to mention the battle once the Death Eaters get into the castle," Patil added, shivering.

"Weasley, Boot, get ready to hide," Draco ordered as their little dots on the map neared the pitch. "Second offensive, draw those Death Eaters away from the castle. First offensive, head to the pitch. Anyone seen Snape?"

"He's heading toward the forest," Blaise said, appearing by Draco's side after returning with another group of terrified evacuees. "Wait, no he isn't." He frowned. "What is he doing?"

"Ananda's with him," Draco said, frowning "They're – is that the Whomping Willow?"

"Where?" Potter burst into the group, gasping for breath. Granger stumbled up beside him. Blaise had her in his arms in a moment. Weasley leaned an arm on Potter's shoulder.

"First offensive, catch up with the Death Eaters," Draco said. "Weasley, Boot, get the hell out of there!"

"Will do, coach," came Hermione Granger's voice.

"Who said that?" Granger, who apparently had the ears of a hawk, demanded.

"Forget it, it's part of the plan," Draco said. "Weasley, no unnecessary risks."

"Whatever, coach," came one of the Weasley brother's voices.

"Who was – " Ron Weasley, who had the ears of an eavesdropper, began.

"Forget it!" Draco snapped. "Girls, stay out of the way until you change back. Then get yourselves up to the castle to help with the second battle."

"Snape's heading for the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack," Granger cut in, staring at the map. "Why?"

"Voldemort's following him," Potter murmured. "What the hell – Hermione, look!"

"Nagini," she breathed. "Harry, we have to get down there!"

"How do we do it, though?" Weasley asked, already backing away from the table. "We don't have the sword – "

"We might be able to get it, though," Potter murmured. He snapped his fingers. "Dumbledore's office – can we get in?"

"We can try," Granger said. "I bet Snape hasn't been able to ward it."

And they were gone again, gone before anyone could mention hostages. It didn't matter for the moment, because You-Know-Who wasn't actually with the hostages, which probably meant they were relatively safe.

"Draco, we need your eyes on the pitch!" Jools' voice, still disguised as Granger's, piped over the communicator charm.

Draco tried to focus, watching the Quidditch players flit above the Death Eaters and giants. So far, none of the them had been hit, but Draco saw several Death Eaters heading for the lockers and the broom shed. "Get ready!" he barked. "The Death Eaters are going for brooms."

"Let them!" Millicent shouted down the line.

"No heroics!" Draco retorted. "When they're air-born, bring the battle back to the castle. In the meantime, try to hold them off as long as possible."

At this propitious moment, twenty wizards burst out of Adriana's portrait. In the lead was Remus Lupin.

"About time!" Draco snarled, his eyes still on the little blips on his map.

"We were detained in Hogsmeade," Lupin explained calmly, surveying the scene as members of the Order spread out around the room, taking stock of evacuees. "There's a whole mess of parents and Aurors coming through behind us. This room will fill up fast."

"We're glad you're here," Longbottom said with a warning look at Draco. He glanced at Blaise, who gave him a quick nod. "We're finished evacuating the lower floors. We have a distraction that's holding up the Death Eaters but we're going to need the Order throughout the castle. Flitwick, McGonagall, and some of the other teachers are helping speed up the evacuation."

"We need to start clearing the evacuees out to Hogsmeade, too," Draco called over his shoulder. "Mill, watch the lockers, I saw a couple Death Eaters heading for them. Adrienne, keep an eye on the broom shed."

"We're going to have heavy traffic coming through that portrait," an Auror with bright pink hair said. "Both ways."

"Some of them should stay behind and help with evacuating that end," Longbottom said. "The rest will be needed here."

**)BW(**

"Did he say Ananda and Snape were headed for the Whomping Willow?" Ginny whispered, still in Fred or George's voice, as she and Jools knelt in the Gryffindor stands.

"Sounds like it," Jools said, tensing in Hermione's body. "Why?"

Ginny thought fast. She couldn't say anything else while she was still linked to the communicator. She felt a sudden pain in her stomach and doubled over. An agonizing moment later she sat up, mercifully back in her own body and slightly oversized robes. These she abandoned, stripping down the trousers and shirt she'd put on underneath. Beside her crouched Jools, no longer looking like Hermione in too-long trousers.

"We should get back to the castle," Jools murmured. "Come on." She caught Ginny's arm and tugged. Ginny followed, creeping along behind her. Together, they slid around the side of the stadium, brooms in hand. "I think we're clear," Jools said. "Let's go."

Ginny paused.

"What?" Jools demanded.

Ginny reached up and plucked the communicator from her tooth. She pulled it gingerly out and dropped it into her pocket. Jools stared. "Ginny, what – " Ginny clapped a hand over mouth.

"Just listen," she said. "There's a part of the plan I didn't tell any of you about because I couldn't. That part is that I have to go after Ananda and Snape. Please," she said quickly. "Don't tell Dra – don't tell them at the castle. I have to go, I'm needed. Trust me."

Jools' eyes were clouds of anger and confusion. She pushed Ginny's hand away from her mouth but instead of yelling down the communicator that Ginny had suddenly turned to the dark side, she yanked her own cap off her tooth, muffling it between her fingers. "Ginny, are you mad?" she demanded. "Ananda betrayed us! Snape betrayed us!"

"I have to go," Ginny said. "Now. I'm sorry, Jools."

"You're not turning to the dark side, are you?" Jools demanded. "Because if you are, I'm going to hex you."

"No, I promise you I'm not," Ginny said. "Jools, please, I can't tell you why but I have to follow them. _Please_."

Jools hesitated. Then she stepped back. "Fine," she said slowly. "Fine. I won't stop you."

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief.

"On one condition," Jools added. "I'm coming with you."

"No," Ginny said flatly. "Absolutely not."

"So I'm supposed to step aside and let you wander into a death trap but I'm not allowed to walk into it with you?" Jools scowled, though she had never looked less like the Jools Ananda had played for so many weeks.

"Yeah, basically," Ginny said, a little desperate now. Jools coming along was not part of the plan.

"I don't see how you have a choice," Jools said coolly. "Strategy, Gin. If you try to leave me behind, I'll follow you. If you hex me so I can't follow, the DA's down one fighter who could make or break the battle. We can't afford that and you know it."

Ginny realized the fix and glared at her captain. "What's it going to be?" Jools said softly.

"All right," Ginny growled. "Fine, corking, come along. But listen to me," she said. "There are things you don't know and won't understand. You have to trust me. I'm the captain right now and you have to do just what I say. Clear?"

Jools didn't hesitate. "I promise," she said.

"Tell the coach we'll be back in a bit to help and he should carry on without us," Ginny said. "Then stash your cap. We'll probably need it later."

Jools popped the cap back over her tooth. "Draco? Ginny and I have an – an errand to run. Don't panic, but we're going to be out of touch for a little while." She listened to something on the other end. "No," she said with a small smile. "No, it was Ginny's idea." Her smile spread. "Obviously I can't talk her out of it. She thinks it's necessary and also she's barking mad." She sighed. "I'm sorry, coach, during the game it's up to the players to decide when the rules change. Take care of the team for us." Jools took the cap off and tucked it into her pocket – before it disappeared, Ginny heard a lot of hysterical yelling coming from it. "Good thing none of your brothers were there or they'd probably have gone spare," Jools said. "Where to?"

**)BW(**

"What the hell do you mean, they took off?" Ron Weasley bellowed. "And where are they going?"

"Someone get Weasley away from me, I have to focus," Draco snapped, trying to keep an eye on his players. "Patrice, get out of there. Don't mess with a giant, are you mad? Beaters, cover baby Patil, she's too close!" He sighed in relief as Parvati dove in. A moment later the little giant icon tipped over. "Good job, Parvati." Padma Patil stood by Draco, watching her sisters' little black dots with wild eyes.

"Coach, we've got another two minutes, at best," Pansy called over the sound of rushing wind. "We can't keep them off the broom shed and we've already got five people down. Defending them and defending the other brooms is too much. We have to move the battle, and soon."

Draco swallowed. "Can you get to the injured or at least help them hide?"

"Already done," Betina cut in. "We're hidden, coach. We'll try and fix ourselves up and then come help at the castle."

"Never mind, you've done a fine job," Draco cut her off. "Pans, Bones, give the signal and start drawing the battle toward the castle. Do it before the Death Eaters have a chance to get on those brooms."

"My sister, Malfoy!" Weasley bellowed again. He held an alarming looking sword in one hand.

Granger got in front of him and gave him an almighty shove, catapulting him right into his family who had just come through the portrait. The room was packed to the limit. Members of the Order, Aurors, teachers helping with the evacuation, and families of Hogwarts students swarmed in. Lupin and Longbottom were organizing everyone into teams while the group around the map tried to keep the evacuation moving and the distraction organized.

Draco realized he must be in shock. It was the only explanation for why he wasn't out of his mind with panic that Ginny and Jools had suddenly taken off. He had no idea what they might be up to, but he did know that they were both stupidly stubborn and determined to do the hardest work themselves. He glanced at their two little dots moving toward the Whomping Willow. How Ginny knew how to get into the Whomping Willow, Draco couldn't imagine. All he'd ever heard about it was rumor.

"Malfoy, do you have any idea why Ginny would take off?" Potter asked in a low voice. Granger and several Weasley brothers were collectively holding Ron Weasley back from the map. Granger was explaining the situation to Arthur Weasley, who looked worried but not at all surprised.

"No bloody idea what's going on in her head," Draco muttered to himself, wishing for the hundredth time Ginny's arm had stayed broken.

"I have to go down there, too," Potter explained slowly. "Voldemort has something I really – "

"Millicent, move!" Draco shouted down the communicator, his eyes fixed on one of the little dots. "Someone get her away from – " His fingers curled, white, around the edges of the table as the Millicent dot stopped moving with a jolt. Draco thought she'd crashed into the pitch. "Pans!"

"I'm on it!" Patrice and Natalie called over the connection. He heard them shout spells at the same time and the crack of Natalie's Beater's bat. "She's alive, coach," Natalie said, panting. "We're moving her into hiding with the others."

"Stop fussing, coach," Millicent's weak voice came down the line.

"Is she – " Blaise said from across the table.

"Okay," Draco breathed, leaning onto his hands for a moment.

"Malfoy – Ginny." Potter was still standing persistently at his side.

"She thinks there's something she has to do, that's all Jools would tell me," Draco said. "Look, Potter, instead of worrying about your precious Ginny," because Draco was doing plenty of that for everyone, "why don't you worry about the hostages."

Potter froze, shock written all over his face. "I'll explain, you focus," Blaise said to Draco, tugging Potter over to his side of the map and beginning to explain the hostage situation.

"Back to the castle, first offensive!" Draco said into his communicator. "All of you. Don't worry about drawing them with you, just get back as fast as you can. Don't use the front door. Come in through the upper window you left through and get ready for battle. Leave the injured. They can find a way in later. Second offensive, follow them in and meet the group that's going to defense the entrance hall. We've still got to stall them until we finish the evacuation."

"Got it!" Pansy called. On the map, a group of fifteen people on brooms shot off across the field toward the castle. Following them, but much more slowly, was a hoard of Death Eaters and monsters that didn't look depleted enough for Draco's taste.

"Thank Merlin Slytherin House is empty now," Jessica said softly. She had returned some time ago from the evacuation. "The other houses can still be emptied before the Death Eaters get upstairs."

"Professor, it's time!" Longbottom called to Lupin. "The Death Eaters are heading for the castle."

Lupin began to shout orders and several of the teachers began leading the youngest students through Ariana's portrait. People moved toward the door of the room, drawing wands. Potter and Blaise ended their little meeting on the other side of the table. "What's it going to be?" Draco asked.

"Hostages first," Potter said tersely. He glanced at the map. "Good, Voldemort's still not there." He looked grim. "Ron's going to have a fit."

"Leave him here, we don't have time for fits," Draco snapped. Potter gave him a dirty look and went to talk to his friend. The room emptied as quickly as it had filled, leaving the team coordinating the evacuation and a few others crowded around the map.

"Blaise, I have to go," Granger said, appearing at Blaise's side.

"You don't _have_ to," Blaise began, but Granger shushed him.

"I do," she said. "We may need to get back into the Room of Requirement later. Are there any tricks?"

"No," Blaise said heavily. "Longbottom's fixed it so only someone connected with the DA or the Order can see the door and get in."

"Good," Granger said. She gave Draco a little salute. "Good job, coach. See you later, then."

"Stay on your toes, Granger," he said. He grinned a little. "The team needs its star chaser."

Granger blushed at the reminder of her drunken night out but grinned nonetheless.

"Stay here," Blaise suggested hopelessly. Granger smiled, kissed him hard, and followed Potter and Weasley (who looked like he was having a coronary) through the door.

The room went from over a hundred people to six in less than five minutes.

"I feel like there should be some chirping crickets or something," Jessica said.

"We're not home on the range, Bentley," Finch-Fletchedly said, rolling his eyes.

"How close are you to finishing the evacuation?" Longbottom asked.

"With the Order and teachers helping, it'll go a lot faster," Finch-Fletchley said. "Hufflepuff is on its last group."

"That was fast," Draco said.

"Most of them want to stay behind to help with the battle – there weren't many to clear out," Finch-Fletchley said proudly. Draco must have looked surprised, but Finch-Fletchley ignored this.

"Gryffindor's got two groups left," Lavender Brown added. "Half of them will cut and run down to the battle when McGonagall isn't looking."

Draco bent low over the map, determined not to concentrate on the two little blips moving under the Whomping Willow and off the edge of the map.

**)BW(**

Ginny had never actually been down the tunnel of the Whomping Willow. She'd only ever heard about it from Ron and Harry, back when they'd faced Sirius here. It was dark and damp and made her skin crawl. At least there wasn't a werewolf down there anymore, she thought grimly. Only a supremely insane and evil wizard, a Death Eater, and a madwoman.

"Our odds are slim, aren't they?" Jools murmured from behind her.

"We're not really going to do anything," Ginny said. "Except hide and wait."

"Wait for what?" Jools asked, stumbling on a root.

Ginny threw her a look and Jools rolled her eyes. "You know, a team works better when all the members know everything."

"Eventually you will," Ginny hedged.

"As long as they know everything _before_ the match starts," Jools said pointedly. "You can't teach the team a strategy while they're flying against a real opponent."

"Clever," Ginny mumbled. "We're a team of two and I do not qualify as the captain in charge of this strategy – just in charge of the actual operation bit."

"What are you talking about?" Jools demanded. "You're the one who came up with the plan."

They were walking side by side now, the passage widening enough to walk two abreast. Ginny glanced at Jools with raised eyebrows.

"This wasn't your plan?" Jools said, squinting at her. "Whose was it?"

Ginny put a finger to her lips as they moved on. The passage opened out into the Shrieking Shack almost without Ginny realizing it. Voldemort and Snape had both come through this passage – it stood to reason they'd leave through it, too. She and Jools had to hide – but where? And without being seen?

The problem was solved almost too easily. Across the hall of the Shrieking Shack, which groaned and swayed like it was in the middle of a hurricane, was a little cupboard. The girls crept to it and shut themselves in. Conveniently, they could hear through the opposite wall. Fortunately for them, the house was noisy by itself so their breathing was masked from the three people in the front room.

"What news of the boy, Severus?" asked a voice straight out of Ginny's past and nightmares. She swallowed and reached instinctively for Jools' hand. She felt Jools shudder and grip back.

"He's inside the castle, my lord," came Snape's voice, soft and deferential. "The rebel students saw to that for me."

"I must offer up the blackmail soon," Voldemort said. "I'm concerned, Severus." Voldemort's voice changed. "What is your opinion, young Malfoy?"

"My lord honors me," Ananda's voice trembled, just enough to set Ginny on edge. "I'm just a girl. I know little of war."

"Your aunt tells me differently," Voldemort said. "And you knew many of these rebels well before you turned your back on them."

"I did know Potter's Mudblood friend, Granger," Ananda said slowly. "Not well, though."

"And what is your oppinion? Will she influence Potter to turn himself in?"

"I'm unsure, my lord," Ananda said quietly. "Granger cares very much for Potter. She might tell him to protect himself."

"But will he be able to resist the urge to save the innocent?" Voldemort said, more to himself than to Ananda or Snape.

"What does my lord wish us to do?" Snape asked.

"Nothing, as yet," Voldemort said. "You must wait here. I want backup."

"But, my lord," Snape began. "I could be of so much help during the battle. I know the castle better than anyone, I – " He broke off.

"You will wait," Voldemort said, his voice chilled steel. "My most loyal Death Eater. If there is any need of a backup, I will call on you." His voice hissed. "Do not defy me, Severus Snape."

"Of course not, my lord."

"You will stay here and you will protect Nagini," Voldemort went on. "I can't risk any harm coming to her and I must go see to Potter."

"We won't fail you, my lord."

"See that you don't." Voldemort swept from the room; Ginny could hear his cloak sweep the floor. Then the sound of boots on dirt as Voldemort entered the tunnel back to the Whomping Willow. Ginny gave him a count of twenty. The sound of boots faded into silence. She gave it another ten seconds. Jools nudged her and shrugged.

Ginny took a deep breath and backed out of the closet. Jools' eyes widened in horror and confusion.

"Professor!" Ginny said, hurrying into the next room.

"Miss Weasley!" Snape sounded both relieved and surprised. "How did you know we'd be here?"

"Ginny! What the hell are you doing?" Jools burst into the room behind her, wand drawn.

"Miss Weasley, I specifically instructed you to keep this plan to yourself!" Snape began angrily.

"Shut up, please!" Ginny said, holding her hands up and feeling her head spin. She started when she noticed the giant snake floating behind Snape, as though bound in an undulating bubble.

"It's okay, it's just the Dark Lord's protective spell," Ananda spoke up. "She can't hurt you."

"I – thanks," Ginny said. "I came, sir, because you getting stuck down here isn't part of the plan."

"As I'm well aware," Snape said, his hands twisted in front of him. "I must reach Potter."

"Wait!" Jools said again. "Ginny, what the hell are you doing?"

"I can't tell you," Ginny said. "Jools, please be quiet and let me think. I promise I'm not – "

"You're on _her_ side now?" Jools bellowed, jabbing an accusing finger at Ananda. "Ginny, what – "

"Jools, you said you trusted me," Ginny said desperately. "You promised me you'd do what I said." Jools looked ready to bolt and they couldn't afford to be exposed here. "Look at me!" Ginny snapped. "I'm the one who saved you from Ananda. Would I bring you back to her if I thought you were in any danger?"

Jools' mouth opened and closed. "In a game, when you're overwhelmed, you sit out. I _can't_ tell you what's going on yet, Jools. If you're willing to keep your promise to do what I say, sit out and listen for a few minutes." Jools took several breaths. Something in Ginny's eyes must have convinced her to stay put. She sank into a chair by the door and sat, wand drawn and gripped in a white-knuckled hand.

"Miss Weasley," Snape said, nodding at Jools for some explanation.

"She was with me, I couldn't get away and I couldn't afford hexing her so she'd stay behind," Ginny said in a rush. "She's too good a fighter. She would have followed me no matter what I said."

"That, I believe," Ananda murmured. The look in her eyes made Ginny's heart swell.

"How're you doing?" Ginny asked her, stepping forward and holding out her arms. Ananda dove into them, burying her face in Ginny's shoulder for one brief moment. Jools made a sound somewhere between a growl and a gasp.

"I'm fine," Ananda said, mask of the calm Death Eater protege in place when she stepped back. "You?"

"Plan started well so I'm feeling pretty good," Ginny said. "Look, we don't have much time. The DA saw me and Jools come down here. If someone panics or if Ron knows, they'll send someone looking for us."

"We can't risk that," Snape said. "We're stuck here – if we leave, our cover is gone and if we're found by the Order, there's no possible way we'll be able to complete the plan. You must get to Potter. I cannot."

"I'll do it," Ginny said quickly. "What do you need?"

Snape drew a small vial from his robes. He touched his wand tip to his forehead and drew out a silver thread of magic, carefully transferring it to the vial. Ananda held the cork and when the memory was in the bottle, she pressed the cork into the opening.

"Miss Weasley, you must not fail me in this," Snape said, an edge to his voice. "Potter must see this memory. Everything depends on it. He must see it before the Dark Lord issues his hostage demands. Remember what I showed you in Dumbledore's office. Potter can view the memory there."

"But Harry's on his way to rescue the hostages," Ginny said. "He might already have done. He's got the Order with him. If Voldemort doesn't get back in time, the hostages will be gone. How will Voldemort force Harry to cooperate?"

"The Dark Lord will still make his demands, which Potter must meet in order to end the war," Snape said impatiently. "It is imperative Potter see this memory before he faces the Dark Lord. Do you understand me?"

"No," Ginny said honestly, accepting the bottle Snape pressed into her hands. "But I won't fail you, I swear it."

"I know," Snape said, his voice hard. "You know what is at stake."

"Gin," Ananda said. "Be careful. Both of you," she said, looking at Jools with that same emotion in her eye. "When this is over, I want to be able to explain everything. Even," she added, smiling at Ginny, "the things you don't know yet."

"I can't wait," Ginny said, hugging her again. "Be safe."

"You, too."

Ginny crossed back to Jools, who was white and still clutching her wand. "Jools. Come with me."

Jools backed out of the room, her eyes not leaving Ananda. "I'm so completely confused and I really want to hex you," she said to Ginny as they climbed back into the tunnel and began the run back to Hogwarts.

"I don't blame you," Ginny said. "When Snape and Ananda came to me a few months ago, I tried to hex Ananda. Snape had to put me in a full body bind to make me listen."

"But you did listen?" Jools sounded at a total loss. "Why?"

"Because it was the right thing to do," Ginny said. "And because I had no choice," she admitted, grinning. "Promise me if we make it out of this alive you'll let Ananda tell you everything. It's worth a listen."

"You've had all the promises you're getting from me today," Jools muttered. "Don't push your luck."

When they emerged from the Whomping Willow, Ginny fished her communicator out of her pocket and stuck it onto her tooth. "Malfoy, talk to me," she said.

"Ginny, thank Merlin!" Jessica's voice came. "Draco's left me to talk. He's leading the defense against the Death Eaters. They're in the castle!"

Damn, she'd been kind of hoping he'd stay in the Room of Requirement, safe. Not to be had, obviously. "Look, Jess, we have to see Harry," Ginny said. "Where is he?"

"He and the Order just got to the refugees," Jools said. "They're on their way back to the castle."

"Where exactly is Harry?"

"He's leading the hostages into Hogwarts through another entrance, trying to get them to the tunnel on the third floor, I think. The one under the hump on the statue of the one-eyed witch."

"Can we get to him?" Ginny demanded.

"You'll have to fight your way through, I think," Jessica said. "I'm sorry, there're too many things between you."

"Is anyone from the DA with his rescue group?" Jools asked. Ginny threw her a surprised look. "What? I'm not going to stop you if you think this will really help Potter," she muttered. "Go on, ask Jess."

Ginny relayed the message.

"It looks like Blaise and Dean Thomas are," Jessica said slowly.

"Can you get a message to them?" Ginny asked desperately.

"Yeah, Blaise is connected through Justin," Jessica said.

"Tell him I need Harry to meet me in Dumbledore's office," Ginny said. It would be easier if he could meet them and less likely the precious memory would get lost of broken if Ginny and Jools just went straight to the office.

"Jess, is anyone in Dumbledore's office?" Jools asked. She had stuffed her own communicator back into her mouth.

"No, it's empty," Jessica said.

"Where's Voldemort?" Ginny asked. Jools flinched and Jessica gasped at the sound of the name. Ginny ignored them.

"You-Know-Who's headed back to the woods," Jessica said. "And Justin says Blaise will try to make sure Harry gets to Dumbledore's office."

"Okay, we're headed there now," Ginny said. "Jools, let's go."

They gripped their wands and began the dash up the hill to the front lawn. They heard the battle before they saw it and when they saw it they both skidded to a halt. The front steps were crowded with silhouettes, all shrouded in the shadow of the night. Some battled against each other – others lay still on the steps, trampled by the desperate feet of living allies.

"Gin, how do we get through there?" Jools demanded, looking sick at the carnage. "And what if the teams' in there? We have to help!"

"Harry's the only one who can end this battle!" Ginny called back, staring desperately at the scene. "We have to get this memory to him before we think of anything else." She paused. "Or I can meet you after I deliver it – "

"No, you'll need backup," Jools said with finality. "_We're_ a team, Gin." She waved Ginny's gratitude away. "I think we need a way around the battle. And I have an idea."

She tore off across the field, Ginny on her heels. "Where are we going?"

"The pitch!"

They made it to the Quidditch pitch without confrontation and found the broom shed in the expected condition – the door was splintered and hung limply off its hinges. Jools and Ginny looked warily around but the battle had moved into the castle. "Gin, Jools, you're fine," Jessica's voice came. "Apart from the injured fliers who're still hiding, you're alone."

"Thanks, Jess." They managed to dig two battered brooms out of the rubble of the broom shed. Jools groaned. "These are an embarrassment compared to _our_ brooms."

"Yeah, but I bet the coach would skin us and hang our guts from the Astronomy Tower if we took the pretty brooms into battle," Ginny pointed out, trying to smile.

"He'll be all right, Gin," Jools said. Ginny gave her a silent hug, filled both with thanks and silent apologies. She knew what Jools was feeling, what she was trying to desperately to hide. Ginny almost wished Jools would get angry at her or Draco or both, and let all those difficult feelings out. She'd feel better for a good shout, Ginny thought.

"Come on," Jools said, pulling away and mounting up.

"What about a window?" Ginny suggested. "There's no way of knowing how the battle's going inside and the closer we are to Dumbledore's office when we break in, the less fight we'll have to get through."

"Let's break a second-floor window, then," Jools decided. "We'll have to fight to get to the office entrance anyway. I'm sure the battle's on the second floor by now."

They mounted and took off. Jools took the lead and Ginny felt better for it. Her friend was such a natural leader, especially on a broom. Ginny hoped very much Jools got the chance to captain professionally. She deserved that chance.

_Keep her alive, _said a little voice in the back of her mind. She made herself a silent promise.

"Jess, are we clear for the window we're heading toward?" Jools called over the wind into the communicator.

"No, but you'll clear a space if you break the window," Jessica said, her voice tense. "Go slow and really blow the window. Dumbledore's office door is being guarded by the Order so if you can make it twenty meters from the window, you'll be able to get in."

"Where's Harry?" Ginny demanded.

"He's right in the middle of a fight on the third floor," Jessica said. "Looks like they're all tied up defending the hostages."

"We can't win this battle if Harry doesn't meet me," Ginny said. "Please, get Blaise to haul him out or convince Harry he's needed now."

"Hang on," Jessica said. She was speaking to someone else in the Room of Requirement. A moment later, she was back. "Blaise is trying to get him to leave now. Apparently, he doesn't want to leave the orphans."

"Idiot!" Jools snarled, taking aim at the fast-approaching window.

"I guess we'll just have to get there and hope he sorts himself out," Ginny said, gritting her teeth. "Where are Ron and Hermione?"

"They're ... they're in a battle on the first floor," Jessica said.

"With any DA people?" Ginny demanded. The window was very close.

"Yeah, a few."

"Try to get one of them to head to the third floor," Ginny said. "They might be the only ones who can convince Harry to move his arse."

"On it. Good luck!" Jessica called.

The window exploded in a shower of glass as Jools' spell connected. They shot through into the chaos beyond, forced to abandon their brooms in the crush of bodies. Pulling each other to their feet, they dove in and out of battles. Ginny never forgot the tiny vial in her pocket. It kept her from taking her wand and defending her friends, who she could see everywhere, fighting for their lives. She forced herself to narrow her vision. Just like a Quidditch match; just because the Seeker was a target didn't mean she should abandon the Quaffle to go help. Everyone had their job and she had the most important one, just now.

"Go!" Jools shouted as they shoved their way toward the five Order members around the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

"Ginny!" Ginny's father was one of the five.

"Daddy!" Ginny cried, ducking behind the wall of tall Aurors. She resisted the urge to distract him, but gave him a hug from behind so he wouldn't have to turn away from the battle. "Daddy, I'm meeting Harry here with a really, really important message. Hopefully, he'll think to wear his invisibility cloak so no one sees him. _No one_ can come up while Harry's in there. It could destroy everything."

"Understood."

The great thing about her father, Ginny thought, was how he knew when to argue and when to listen. She gave a final squeeze and ducked up the steps with Jools.

"Hope Harry actually remembers the cloak," Ginny muttered as they tore up the steps. "If anyone sees him coming up here, my dad and the others won't be able to hold that door for love or Galleons."

"Gin, I saw my mum!" Jools gasped as they burst into the office.

"What?" Ginny said, turning to her friend and trying to catch her breath.

"She and my brother took a Death Eater," Jools said. She grinned at Ginny through sweat-soaked fringe. "They were kicking arse!"

"I'll bet!" Ginny said with a whoop, slapping Jools back before looking frantically around. There it was, just where Snape had showed her. Ginny went to the cabinet and opened the doors of a low shelf.

"What's this?" Jools asked, eyeing the basin inside with interest.

"A Pensieve," Ginny said.

"Wow!" Jools the Ravenclaw said, her eyes lighting up. "I've read all about them. They're really rare!"

"So Snape told me," Ginny said. "We have to have it waiting for Harry when he gets here."

"Harry's on his way," Jessica cut in over the communicator. "Being dragged by Ron Weasley, by the look of it."

"Can you tell if they're using the invisibility cloak?" Ginny asked, wondering how her brother had managed to get from the first to the third floor undamaged.

"No, the map can't read any cloak," Jessica said.

Ginny contented herself with crossing her fingers. "Help me," she said to Jools, gripping the edges of the massive stone bowl of the Pensieve. Together, they hauled it to Dumbledore's desk, trying hard not to spill the contents. Ginny didn't think using their wands to lift the thing would have been safe – she didn't know what extra magic would do to the fluid inside the bowl. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled the little vial of Snape's memory out. It was whole, corked, and undamaged. Carefully, she pulled the cork and tipped the contents into the bowl. Images of people Ginny didn't recognize danced on the surface.

"I wish we could see this, too," Jools said, studying the images. "Know what's going on in Snape's brain. Did he tell you what was in this memory?"

"Nothing," Ginny said. "I was on a need-to-know basis with him."

A commotion outside the door had Ginny and Jools diving in front of the bowl with wands drawn. Something they couldn't see came through the door, making a terrible invisible racket. A moment later, the invisibility cloak fell away and Ron stood holding Harry in a head lock.

"Get off, Ron!" Harry bellowed, writhing about.

"Stop being a prat," Ron snapped back. "You've got a job to do. Don't get distracted by the littlest thing, Potter." He looked up and his whole face lit up. "Ginny!"

"Ron!" She wanted to run to him but he had his hands full with Harry, still struggling to return to the defense of the orphans. "Harry, listen to me," Ginny begged, kneeling in front of him. "This memory is everything. Snape gave it to me."

"Snape's a traitor!" Harry shouted, struggling harder than ever.

"He's not, Harry," said a voice. Ginny whirled and Harry stilled. Dumbledore's portrait, hanging over the headmaster's desk, smiled at them all as calmly as though there weren't a war going on beyond the room. "Harry, listen to your friends. Severus and I planned this moment. This memory is everything. Without it, you cannot defeat Voldemort. Without it, your friends will lose the battle tonight."

Harry took several deep breaths. "All right, Ron," he said at last. "I promise not to run."

Ron gave it a count of five before releasing his best friend and throwing himself at Ginny. He picked her up and swung her around and Ginny felt the heartbreaking skinniness and damage of her brother's body. She pulled back, tears in her eyes.

"Later," she promised.

"Soon," he said, gripping her shoulders.

"I love you," she sniffled, tearing herself away. "Harry, now."

Harry was already poised over the Pensieve. A moment later, he tumbled into it and vanished.

"What now?" Ron asked, looking suddenly exhausted – little wonder, he'd had to wrestle his best friend through a battle.

"We wait, I guess," Ginny said. "Or maybe Jools and I should get back to the battle ..."

"No!" Ron yelped, even as Jools said, "What, didn't your new best friends give you anything else to do?"

"No," Ginny said shortly to Jools. "Ron, we're all needed."

"No!" Ron said again, gripping her hand.

"Harry needs you!" Ginny snapped. "Stop trying to save me, Ron. I'll be fine."

Ron didn't let go.

"Harry needs you," she repeated, trying to stay calm. "Ron, if you don't help him win this war, I'm probably going to die anyway, along with the rest of our family. Please, Ron! Let me go!"

He stared at her, haunted by the same look their mother always seemed to wear. Then he was hugging her, his face pressed into her shoulder. "Ginny, if anything happens to you, I swear – "

"Don't!" she begged. "I love you."

She managed to pull away and rushed after Jools down the stairs.

"Harry and Ron are still in there," she said to her father. "We'll help protect it, if you need."

"I want you to get out," her father called over the noise of curses and screaming that echoed from every part of the corridor. "Ginny, you know where the evacuation is – "

"I'm not abandoning my friends, Dad!" she snapped, slipping into the semi-circle blocking Dumbledore's office door. Jools squeezed in as well, wand drawn. "And I'm not abandoning my team."

Her father couldn't say anything for a full ten minutes. Eventually, the Order, the DA, and rampaging suits of enchanted armor being charmed by Professor Flitwick managed to drive the Death Eaters and terrifying creatures back to the first floor.

Ginny helped move injured and dying on the second floor to the hospital wing, which was also under guard. It wasn't nearly big enough for all the casualties, she could see as she helped carry Lavender Brown's battered body into the room. People were on beds, the floor, propped in chairs. Madam Pomphrey had recruited members of the Order, students' parents (including Jools' mum, who shrieked with hysterical joy at the sight of her), and older students who took Magical Healing. All were elbow-deep in injury. Ginny's eyes filled, but she brushed the tears away and helped Jools move Anthony Goldstein from a bed to a chair, since apparently he wasn't too badly hurt. She didn't see any of her family in the room and didn't know whether to be relieved or worried.

Several of the team girls were stretched out around the room. Millicent Bulstrode and Betina Johnson lay in one bed, both a mess.

"We looked worse during the match with Slytherin," Millicent promised, only able to open one eye. Betina smiled vaguely at them but couldn't speak. Ginny's lip trembled as she looked at the little Seeker.

"I'll look out for her," Millicent promised. "Weasley, Boot – have you seen Pansy or Draco? Or Blaise?"

"Not since we left the Room of Requirement," Ginny said slowly.

"Find them," Millicent said urgently, her eyes wild. "Protect the team, too. We're fine here, honest."

Jools bent and kissed Betina's shiny, burning forehead. Ginny hugged Betina and Millicent carefully before following Jools toward the doors. Jools wiped angrily at her eyes.

"They're right," she said. "We're needed. Let's see if we can organize some of the others."

They snuck passed Jools' mum, who was trying to find Jools and force her into hospital duty. "To protect me, naturally," Jools said, not without affection, as she and Ginny slipped out the door.

Through Jessica, who was still in the Room of Requirement, they were able to contact other DA members and arrange a place to regroup. They had just reunited with Susie, Pansy, Blaise, Adrienne, and Parvati when Voldemort's voice rang through the castle. Ginny's blood chilled and she had to make an effort to suppress the memories rising from a dark time in her past.

"Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat, immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured. I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, the battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

There was a moment of stunned silence.

"Jess, where's Harry?" Ginny said into the communicator she still wore.

"He's already halfway to the Forbidden Forest," Jessica said, sounding awed. "Sweet Merlin! He's headed right for You-Know-Who!"

"Going after Voldemort?" Ginny repeated breathlessly.

"No," Pansy said faintly. "Oh, god, he can't possibly be that stupid!"

Ginny felt a shock shoot through her – Harry must have seen something in Snape's memory. Something that made him go. "He had something he had to do. Hermione was helping him; so was Ron. This is probably it! I think it's a trick, something he has to do to fight the Death Eaters."

"He was obviously on his way to the forest before the announcement started," Blaise said.

"Jess," Parvati said. "How many of the team girls are we near? Can we round up a good bunch of us? Even the coach?"

They waited in the unused corridor Jessica had found for them, quiet and tense in the unnatural stillness. Part of Ginny wanted to rush back to the hospital to help and part of her felt that they were the last holdout, preparing to go down fighting when they were Hogwarts' only hope.

"What was that, Jess? Why can't you can't find the coach?" Parvati said suddenly.

"What do you mean, you can't find him?" Blaise demanded very loudly in the direction of Parvati's communicator. She winced as it let out a shriek of feedback.

"He's not on the map," Parvati explained. "She thinks he must be helping with the Hogsmeade evacuation. People are still needed there to defend against leftover Death Eaters."

"Should we go help there?" Ginny asked suddenly. "Voldemort's cease-fire will give people here a chance to regroup, but if he gets wind of the evacuation, Hogsmeade won't have backup."

Several people winced at the sound of You-Know-Who's name, but didn't comment.

"We'll go for a half-hour and then come back," Blaise decided.

"Jess, you seen Hermione?" Ginny asked.

"She's with Ron Weasley," Jessica said. "They're – I think they're downstairs, helping move the wounded while there's a stop in the fighting. I think they're setting up the Great Hall as a second infirmary."

"We'll let her help here," Jools said. "She knows healing magic and they need all the help they can get. Where can we get brooms?"

They snuck back out to the pitch, which was still deserted. Mounting up on the last of the school brooms, they flew through the dawn to Hogsmeade. They found the evacuees and Order members contending with a small band of Death Eaters and helped dispatch them from the air.

"More could turn up at any time," said Kingsley Shacklebolt, a tall deep-voiced Auror Ginny had known from Order headquarters. "But we are nearly finished here."

"We're going to need everyone at the castle and soon," Ginny told him, leaning on her broom and watching groups of frightened students move from the Hog's Head to the Apparation and Portkey points set up outside the Apparation and Portkey barriers the Death Eaters had erected around Hogsmeade. "Voldemort's called a cease-fire and demanded Harry turn himself in. If he doesn't, Voldemort's going to regroup and lay waste to Hogwarts." She swallowed the urge to tell Kingsley that as far as she knew, Harry was already on his way to the forest. Maybe there already.

"Did you get all that?" Kingsley asked Hestia Jones, another Auror Ginny know from headquarters, who stood nearby with her wand drawn.

"The last two groups of evacuees are leaving now," she said. "We can return to the school. There's no sense in staying Hogsmeade anymore."

"That went fast," Ginny said, surprised. They had emptied all four houses – even without all the members of the DA, that was almost six hundred students.

"Many students chose to stay," Kingsley said. "Some with their families, who came to fight, and some slipped away before we could get them through the portrait to Hogsmeade." He frowned. "We only evacuated two hundred."

Ginny gasped. "That many stayed?"

"Hogwarts is their home," Kingsley said. "They want to protect it."

Daniel Jones and his friend Juliette had been right, Ginny realized. Everyone wanted Hogwarts safe again. She felt both bitterly sad (how many students would die today?) and fiercely powerful.

"Ginny." Jools and Susie appeared beside her. Nearby, Pansy stood with Blaise, Adrienne, and Parvati. "We're heading back to the castle. Zabini reckons we should be inside the castle with the rest of the team to help protect the people in the Great Hall. Maybe even try and stop the Death Eaters from getting back into Hogwarts."

"We're ready." Hestia Jones and ten Aurors stood nearby.

"We'll go through Ariana Dumbledore's portrait," Kingsley decided. "You students as well," he added, with a wink at Ginny. "You can keep the brooms but better to reappear inside the castle than outside."

The team girls looked to Jools and Susie. "Better to stay out of sight while we regroup," Susie agreed after a moment.

"Draco's not down here," Blaise murmured to Ginny as they waited. Ginny's stomach tightened as she remembered that Jessica had thought he would be.

"We'll have to ask Jess if she's found him when we're back in the room," Ginny said softly. "Blaise – what if – " She swallowed.

"No," he hissed through his teeth. "No, we just have to – we have to wait until we can see the map."

They followed the group through the portrait, reappearing in the room to find it nearly empty.

"You're back!" Jess cried, flying at the team and Blaise.

"We're fine," Susie assured her, patting her back. "Jess, the others ... we need to find them."

Jess led them to the map. "All the team girls are accounted for," she began. "Most of them are helping with Hermione in the Great Hall. Betina and Millicent are in the hospital wing."

"We checked in with them," Ginny said, nodding to Jools.

"They should all be up there," Blaise murmured, eyes on the names in the Great Hall. "They'd be safer."

"No one is safe if Voldemort gets back into the castle," Ginny said, clenching her fists. "Anyway, the hospital wing is seriously overcrowded."

"We're heading down to the hall," Kingsley cut in. "Come as soon as you can. We'll all be needed."

"We're leaving with the Aurors," Justin Finch-Fletchely said, removing his communicator and nodding at Padma and Lavender. "Bentley, too. We're needed."

"Get going," Blaise said. "You've done all you can do here."

"Now we have the Slytherin's permission," Justin said, rolling his eyes. Padma Patil nudged him and smiled apologetically at Blaise, who managed an amused smirk at Justin's expense. She hugged her sisters tightly.

"See you down there," Pansy said.

"We'd better," Justin muttered. "Come on."

Jessica stayed with the team, arm linked through Blaise's.

"We'll be there in a minute," Ginny promised, still bent over the map. Her eyes flicked over the faded paper, looking for one name. Not that she didn't care about her family and friends, but she was pretty sure they were all safe for the time being.

Where was _he_?

As she skimmed frantically over the names moving around the parchment, she was distracted by something else.

"Jools, Blaise." She pointed. "Harry's in the forest. Actually with the Death Eaters."

"What?" Blaise and Jools followed her gaze.

She'd been hoping Pansy wouldn't hear. "Try telling me this is part of the plan," she snarled at Ginny, diving for the map.

"Pans, don't panic," Blaise ordered, removing his arm from Jessica's and trying to calm Pansy down.

"What – oh, my god!" Jools said. Ginny thought she was reacting to Harry, too, but a moment later, she realized what had shocked the Ravenclaw.

"No – oh, no!" Ginny's heart gave a lurch.

"Gin, what is it?" Susie was beside her. Silently, Ginny pointed.

"Oh, god." Susie went white.

"What is it?" Blaise asked. Even Pansy leaned over to look.

"It's the coach," Jools whispered. "He's with the Death Eaters, too."

"_No_." Blaise bent over the map, Pansy forgotten. The others crowded around for a look.

"Why?" Jessica said, tears in her eyes.

"I reckon his father found him," Blaise said through his teeth. "Draco's been sending owls to his family for months to avoid going home. When we all moved into the room, he stopped sending them."

"He and I ran into his aunt Bellatrix during the first Death Eater attack," Ginny said slowly. "I'm sure his family found out he was coaching us and that he'd been lying about studying over the holidays." She didn't add that Ananda could have been responsible for telling the family about his betrayal. Jools nudged Ginny, eyebrows raised. Ginny shook her head. Now was not the time to bring Ananda into it.

Ginny took a moment to look for Ananda and Snape on the map. She saw them moving toward the group in the forest. Behind them floated a little dot labeled "Nagini." Ginny's stomach tightened.

"Come on," she said, surprising everyone by grabbing the map and tucking it into her robes. "Let's find the others and make a plan."

"To rescue the coach?" Adrienne demanded.

"And to help keep the others safe," Susie said firmly.

"Let's move," Blaise said, his rage and fear palpable things. They were all at the door of the room, which now looked like a deserted campsite, when Ginny noticed Pansy wasn't with them. She looked over her shoulder and saw the Slytherin standing alone in the middle of the room.

"Go on," Ginny said to Jools. "I'll catch up with you." She nodded to Pansy.

"You can handle it?" the Ravenclaw asked.

"Trust me," Ginny said, smiling a little. Jools hugged her, gave her a little shake, and followed the others out. Blaise threw Ginny a questioning look when he noticed Pansy. Ginny shook her head – she could handle this best, she thought.

She crossed the empty room, so unnaturally quiet and motionless after months of being home to a hundred students.

"Well, Parkinson?" she asked, planting her hands on her hips.

Pansy glared at her, which did nothing to hide the terrible fear in her eyes.

"You remember when you asked Harry what you should do about Ananda turning evil and he hugged you and said, 'Be safe'?" Ginny asked. "Remember, you almost took his head off."

Pansy choked out a laugh.

"Did you really expect _him_ not to play the hero?" Ginny asked, her throat tight. Harry was, after all, like her big brother. "You knew he'd do something arse-backward stupid."

"Not this stupid!" Pansy snapped, her lip trembling. "He was supposed to kill the Dark Lord, not turn himself in!"

"We don't know what he's doing down there," Ginny said firmly. "He and Ron and Hermione had a plan. We have to believe he knows what he's doing."

"And what about Draco?" Pansy demanded. "He's one of my best mates, Weasley."

Ginny's throat tightened and she couldn't speak.

"Weasley – Ginny, I'm sorry." Pansy reached out a tentative hand and touched her arm. "I know how you feel about him."

Ginny nodded, still unable to speak.

"You – you're right about Potter," Pansy said slowly. "But I'm so scared."

"I know," Ginny managed. "Me, too." She gave her throat a sound clearing and looked into her friend's eyes. "Let's go rescue them both so we can kill them for scaring us."

Pansy grinned a wobbly grin. "That sounds the thing."

**)BW(**

They found the rest of the team, barring the injured, just inside the Great Hall. The DA leaders were talking to the Aurors. Jools, Susie, and Blaise were listening in as Neville, Terry, and Dean talked to Kingsley and Ginny's father. Parents of all the students were milling about, alternating between planning with the Aurors and trying to force their children to stay out of the fight. On the latter score, it was a losing battle.

"Ginny!"

Ginny grinned and went to greet her family. They were all there – her brothers, her parents. Even Ron and Hermione were swept up in the fray. Ginny was hugged and kissed and told that she wasn't to fight anymore (this from her distraught mother). Ginny didn't bother to respond.

"Gin," Hermione said, when the family had returned to discussions with other Aurors and Mrs. Weasley had given up trying to force Ginny to evacuate. "Have you seen Harry?"

"You mean you don't know?" Ginny said quietly. She looked around for Ron. He stood a ways off and looked quickly away when Ginny met his eye. "Ron didn't tell you?"

"Ronald!" Hermione barked, rounding on him.

"I didn't want you to get hurt!" was his immediate excuse.

"What aren't you telling me?" Hermione demanded. She looked like she might go for her wand.

Ginny left them to that unfortunate conversation.

"We're not sure what to do about the coach," Susie said when Ginny joined the team, most of whom were talking with Tonks and Lupin.

"I know none of you wants to consider the possibility he turned himself in," Lupin began.

"Don't you dare say it!" Pansy barked.

"We have to consider every possibility," Lupin countered, not unkindly. "And I don't mean only the negative ones. Suppose young Malfoy has a plan of his own? Suppose he was taken by force?"

"He is also a Malfoy," Tonks pointed out. "I know that family. Let's not forget what they're like."

Ginny clapped a hand over Pansy's mouth. "Jumping to conclusions because of someone's name isn't helpful either," she snapped, wincing as Pansy tried to bite her. "Fine, we don't know why Dra – why Malfoy's with Death Eaters but believe me, he doesn't want to be."

"I'm prepared to believe that," Lupin said with a warning look at Pansy. Ginny suspected he didn't want the Slytherin gouging his wife's eyes out. Tonks didn't look nearly as worried about the wrath of Pansy as Ginny knew she should. "We also have to consider that Harry is with them, too."

Pansy went still, though she shook under Ginny's hands. "So what do we do, Professor?"

Lupin smiled faintly at the old title. "I don't know."

There was a sudden flurry of noise and motion. Ginny turned in alarm, only to discover that Blaise had intervened to prevent Hermione from killing Ron. A generous gesture, given how little Blaise probably liked Ron.

"Ron forgot to tell Hermione that Harry was going to see Voldemort," Ginny explained to Pansy.

"Idiot," Pansy said shortly. "Weasley, we can't just sit here."

"Let's do what we do best," Ginny suggested as Lupin moved off to speak to several teachers and Tonks went off to speak to Kingsley. Just as well – Pansy still looked ready to take the Auror's bubblegum pink head off. "Strategy."

They coaxed a hysterical Hermione away from Ron with promises of strategy, maiming Ron, and rescuing Harry. Blaise still had to carry her to the corner where the team sat together. Ginny saw Neville pulling all the DA members who weren't injured or on the team into another corner. Good – someone else was doing something.

"We have two problems," Susie began the moment they were all listening. "The first is that our coach has been captured by Death Eaters."

Those who didn't know gasped.

"The second is that we have to help defend the castle," Susie went on. "Of course, we aren't alone. There are others. But we're a team who flies. We need to make a plan."

"There's no way Voldemort's going to stay in the forest," Hermione said. She looked exhausted, underfed, and furious. "He's called a cease-fire because he's got Harry and because he can see we're stronger than he thought. We have to know what he's up to."

"We can't know," Jools said. "Unless," she added carefully, "you know something about what Harry's up to."

"I have no idea about this part of things and Ron won't tell me," Hermione said, glowering over her shoulder. Ginny threw a look at her brother. He didn't have that cowed look he usually got when Hermione started yelling. He glowered right back at her and seemed to curl into himself.

"He knows exactly what Harry's doing," Ginny said slowly. "He let Harry go." She glanced at Hermione. "He was with Harry in Dumbledore's office when I gave him the memory from – " She broke off. No one knew about Snape.

"What, Gin?" Hermione stared at her in surprise. "What do you know?"

"I can't tell you," Ginny said, biting her lip. "I swore I wouldn't."

"But does it matter now?" Jools asked quietly. "I mean, haven't you done what you said you'd do?"

"Wait, Jools knows?" Blaise demanded. "Ginny, what are you – "

"They might be able to help," Jools said urgently to Ginny. "And – and if _she_ is really on our side, they have a right to know."

Ginny chewed her lip, wild thoughts flying unhelpfully around in her head. She'd sworn not to tell but if Snape needed more help and she could give it …

"Okay," she said. "Okay. But promise me you'll all listen until the very end. It's complicated – "

They were all nodding when a voice cracked through all the little conversations in the hall like a whip.

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won."

Pansy, Ron, and Hermione reached the door before Ginny had even begun to comprehend Voldermort's latest message. Neville and the DA were next, with Ginny and the team not far behind.

It wasn't possible. It was a lie.

Distantly, Ginny hoped the Aurors were keeping a few of their number behind to protect the Great Hall. Most of the hall was emptying, pouring into the early morning light of the field beyond the castle steps. Ginny could see the Death Eaters and their hideous collection of monsters against the dark backdrop of the Forbidden Forest. She was horrified to see Hagrid's massive form at the front. How Voldemort had managed to capture Hagrid ...

They all rushed across the field, sunlight at their backs. Ginny could see the Death Eaters' masks, and faces of those unmasked, clearly now.

"Someone grab Parkinson!" Neville called. Blaise managed to slow her down, pulling her up beside him. Twenty meters from the Death Eaters and Voldemort, Blaise pulled them both to a halt. Ron and Hermione stopped beside DA and the team slowly formed up around them, wands drawn. Ginny saw Snape and Ananda standing well back behind the Death Eater lines, Nagini between them and still floating in the strange bubble Ginny had seen her in before. Why Voldemort was going to such trouble over a snake, Ginny thought, when he didn't give a damn about human life.

A sharp intake of breath from Hermione drew Ginny back to the present.

"Merlin!" Parvati gasped, leaning on Ginny.

"Parvati, what – " Ginny began, but froze when she saw what.

Hagrid was weeping, great racking sobs. In his arms was a body that looked tiny by comparison.

"Harry," Ron whispered. Ginny saw his shoulders shaking.

"No." This from Neville, standing by Ron and gripping his shoulder.

Ginny felt tears slide down her cheeks, though the shock of seeing Harry's limp body hadn't sunk into her numb brain at all. Someone scrabbled for Ginny's hand – Ginny didn't know who but she caught and gripped back. She saw Harry there, in Hagrid's arms, and yet, it was as though she were watching from a long way off. He wasn't dead.

Not Harry.

"Your hero has become your betrayer." The voice smashed the calm surface of Ginny's numb thoughts to pieces. "He tried to run, to save himself. He would have left you to die."

"Liar!" Several voices, including Ginny's, rose in protest.

Voldemort continued as if he hadn't heard. "Ironic, really," he said, his red eyes flicking over the students assembled before him. "We killed your traitor … and our own."

A Death Eater, still masked, moved beyond the ranks of the others. Ginny strained to see. The Death Eater floated someone, limp and lifeless, before him. For a moment, Ginny couldn't see who –

She caught a glimpse of blond hair, long limbs. She swayed and someone caught her, held her upright. The edges of Ginny's vision swam. It was too much – bad enough to see Harry there, cradled in Hagrid's arms.

Still worse to see him – Draco.

"I hear young Malfoy made quite a reputation for himself at Hogwarts this last year," Voldemort said, his voice distant in Ginny's ears. "Uniting the four houses, I understand. Something that's never really been done before."

Ginny tried to make sense of it. This was so different from Dumbledore's death. She'd felt it at once, the hurt and loss and tears. Nothing could have prepared her for Harry and – She felt herself slowly returning to awareness, to feeling. She noticed half the team holding Blaise back.

"And now I look around," Voldemort continued. "I notice a number of blood traitors in your midst."

His eyes fixed on Pansy, who had found it in her to help hold Blasie back. They locked on Ginny moments later. She lifted her chin. All the shock and pain blocked the fear she ought to have felt. A little voice in the back of her mind reminded her that once Voldemort had had his gloat, he was going to mow them down.

"There are no traitors here."

Neville's powerful voice carried across the distance, filling the air. "Monsters and murderers and cowards, maybe," Neville said, with a tight smile at Voldemort's hoards. "No traitors."

"Cowards, do you call us?" Voldemort said, his voice suddenly thin.

"Cowards doesn't begin to cover it," Pansy snarled, her voice shaking. "You're fighting school children!"

"Ah, the Parkinson girl," Voldemort said. "I've heard of you."

"I'll bet." Pansy glowered at him. Like Ginny, she seemed beyond fear.

"What happens to those who challenge the Dark Lord?" Voldemort said, his voice a snake's hiss. "What happens to those who stand in his way?" He nodded toward Harry and Draco. No one spoke. Ginny had a thousand things she wanted to say and a thousand more she wanted to do. She wondered who would move first, the Death Eaters or the DA. She knew Neville, Pansy, and Blaise were out for blood. Probably Ron and Hermione, too. Probably the entire team.

Her eyes drifted toward Ananda – isolated and distance, as she stood beside Snape. Suddenly, Ananda's eyes were on Ginny, too. Their gazes locked and Ananda nodded, almost imperceptibly, at Snape. Ginny frowned, turning to look up at the Potions master.

Suddenly, her head was full of images, impulses, words. She leaned into Parvati, the person who was still holding her up. She couldn't escape it, couldn't fight it. Just when she thought her head might explode, it ended and Snape was staring calmly at Voldemort again. Ginny blinked several times, her eyes returning to Ananda. The Slytherin's expression was just shy of desperate. Ginny struggled for a moment to make sense of what she had seen. Slowly, her head had cleared enough to sort through the images and make sense of them. She began to look around.

She saw the first thing she needed. Gripped in Ron's limp hand, shining slightly in the morning sun…

She squeezed her eyes shut. Voldemort was speaking again but she ignored the words, focusing on the images still tumbling around her mind. Strategy – she needed a plan. She had a minute, at best. While Voldemort was still talking.

She inched forward, away from Parvati's supporting arm. She stepped up behind Ron, touching his arm to let him know she was there. He glanced back at her, surprise cracking the mask of horror and pain on his face. She slid her hand over his, pulling the long silver sword from his grasp as slowly as she dared. He opened his mouth, but she shook her head. Hermione, who had noticed Ginny's approach, stepped close to Ron and leaned into him, blocking Ginny and the sword from view of the Death Eaters. Ginny gave silent thanks for the trust and teamwork that made Hermione trust her, in spite of having no idea what Ginny was doing.

"Those Pure-bloods who wish to join us," Voldemort was saying, "need not die here today."

"We just have to stand back and watch our friends die?" Neville demanded.

"There are friends to be made amongst your own kind," Voldemort said. "Friends of the same noble birth."

"Friends like Bellatrix LeStrange?" Neville spat the name. "Spare me."

"Your choice is the winning side or death, boy," Voldemort hissed. He raised his voice. "Do not let your minds continue to be poisoned by the inferior, the blood-traitors, the Mudbloods."

No one moved.

"You have no idea why we're all standing here, do you?" Neville asked at last, shaking his head. "You're right, you could probably kill us all now if you wanted. But we're not going anywhere."

Ginny met Snape's eyes again. He gave his head a minute shake. Ginny gripped the sword.

"I know that you all believe you will die on the side of right," Voldemort said, shaking his head pityingly. "What a waste. What a terrible waste."

Ginny inched forward until she stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Pansy. She kept the sword concealed behind Pansy's leg. Jools stood near enough for Ginny to whisper a few words to her. Jools looked surprised but she nodded. Ginny whispered a few more words to Blaise. Blaise, who had stopped struggling toward Draco's limp body, blinked, nodded, and relaxed. Ginny leaned back into Pansy's side and murmured a few words in her ear. Pansy nodded, too, her gaze steel.

Ginny glanced at Snape, nodding her head once. He nodded back. Ananda opened her hand against her leg and began a countdown on her fingers. Five, four, three…

"And now it is our duty," Voldemort was concluding, "to finish …"

Two, one …

Pansy stepped aside. Ginny threw herself through the gap in the line –

And met the monstrous Nagini as she hurdled through the air, writhing and flailing with the momentum. Ginny swung the sword up, felt the momentary resistance of a powerful spell that broke on contact with the sword, and slashed neatly through the gleaming coils, just as four bodies sailed across the divide in ranks, landing sprawled behind the DA lines.

Ginny stood in the dead zone between the two groups, pieces of dead snake splattered around her, blood dripping from the sword. The field was silent, shock holding everyone in place. She didn't dare move. She was within range of Bellatrix LeStrange and several other Death Eaters, not to mention Voldemort.

She stayed motionless, her eyes on the enemy. A moment later, she felt someone step up beside her.

"Nice one, Gin," Neville said, his wand drawn.

"I thought so, too." Ron and Hermione stood on her other side. "We really needed to kill that snake."

"That, Miss Weasley," Voldemort said suddenly, "was the last mistake you will ever make."

Before anyone could move, Voldemort's wand was on Ginny and the words, "Avada Kedavra!" split the air.

Ginny felt something tug at her breath, at her heart. She gasped – a finger plucked at her life force, twisting and pulling and trying to break it free.

As suddenly as the finger appeared, it was gone.

Ginny blinked – was she dead?

No – she still grasped the bloody sword in one hand. Neville, Ron, and Hermione stared at her, as though waiting for her to collapse.

Ginny turned her eyes on Voldemort, who still stood before her. "Did you miss?" she said, meaning to sound sarcastic and ending up sounding disbelieving.

Neville made a strangled sound under his breath and Ginny realized he was struggling not to laugh. There wasn't anything funny about any of this, Ginny thought. They still faced a hoard of Death Eaters. Harry and Draco were still ...

"Avada Kedavra!" The words slashed the air again as Voldemort took aim at Neville. Neville gave the same little gasp Ginny had, as though the air had been sucked from his lungs. Then he straightened.

"What's going on?" Ginny murmured to Hermione.

"I have an idea," Hermione said breathlessly. "But it's too good to be true."

"Tell me later," Ginny said. "Nev?"

Neville threw a look over his shoulder. "We make our stand here," he whispered. "DA!" he called, his voice ringing across the field. "Let's end this!" He hefted his wand and shouted, "For Harry Potter!"

The people behind him echoed, "For Harry!"

Ginny heard the rumble of feet behind her. Her muscles bunched, preparing for the charge. Suddenly, she remembered something. Turning, she ran through the crowds of DA descending on the Death Eaters. She found her targets easily. Snape and Ananda crouched over Draco's body, protecting it from the stampede. Ginny looked frantically around, but saw no sign of Harry.

"We must move Draco," Snape was saying. "I need to see to the battle, be of some help if I can."

"Let Professor Lupin know you're here!" Ginny called over the noise, wincing as someone's foot connected with her side by accident. "Other members of the DA might not trust you, but Lupin always did."

Snape's lip curled, but he nodded and joined the people rushing the Death Eaters.

"Come on!" Ananda called over the noise. Together, they heaved Draco's body away from the battle. When they were behind the lines of the DA and the Order, Ginny, gasping for air, paused and put him down.

"We have to move!" Ananda insisted.

"Okay, okay."

Ginny caught him under the arms and together the girls made their way into the castle and the Great Hall. Ginny's tears began again, surprising her by breaking through the numb barrier around her mind. They found a place on a table by the door. Younger students and several members of the Order were moving around the room, tending the injured and arranging the dead as gently as they could. Ginny recognized too many faces and kept her eyes away. She and Ananda settled Draco on the table. Ginny folded his arms, lacing his fingers together on his stomach. She ran a hand over his hair. Ananda pressed her cheek to his.

"I wish he could have known about me, Gin," she said softly. "I wish he knew – everything."

"Wherever he is now, he probably knows," Ginny said gently, gripping her hand.

They both stepped back, watching Draco's peaceful face, saying their own silent goodbyes and preparing to return to the battle outside.

When Draco's eyes popped open, they both shrieked and leapt away.

"I don't look that bad," he said hoarsely, glaring at the pair of them as they stood, shaking, a meter from the table.

"Draco?" Ananda whispered, gripping Ginny's hand painfully.

"That had better be a damned good story, cousin," Draco said, pushing himself upright and wincing as he did.

"But you're dead," Ginny said blankly.

"Yes, I am, I just like to keep moving a little." Draco rolled his eyes. "Weasley, really." He opened his arms to both of them, eyebrows raised. They were there in a moment, clinging to him and each other and crying hysterically.

"You stupid, stupid boy!" Ananda shrieked. "What the hell is wrong with you, turning yourself over to Death Eaters?"

"I didn't turn myself over," Draco said, pausing a moment to kiss Ginny. "I was captured. Voldemort had found out about the team and wanted to make an example of me. So he brought me along and made me watch while he – while he murdered Potter." Draco swallowed. Ginny choked down a sob, her eyes burning.

"But – they killed you," Ananda said slowly. "I mean, the Dark Lord said you were dead."

"Don't ask me," Draco said, shrugging and kissing Ginny again. It was nice of Ananda not to object, Ginny thought. "After they got Potter, Voldemort turned his wand on me. He told my parents to beg for my life. My – my mother did." He swallowed again, cleared his throat. Ginny pressed her face into his shoulder. "My aunt Bella said to go ahead and off me. My blood was obviously tainted. My mum begged and pleaded and Voldemort just laughed at her and cast the killing curse."

"He's off his game today," Ananda said, her eyes flashing. "Did you see? He tried to kill Ginny and Longbottom and it didn't work."

"He tried to what?" Draco yelped, staring at Ginny.

"I killed his snake," Ginny said defensively. "Of course he tried to kill me."

"Good of you to do that," Ananda said. "Kill Nagini, I mean. Now, if Granger and Weasley and Potter did the job right, the Dark Lord is mortal."

"What?" Ginny demanded.

"It's a long story," Ananda said. "Tell you later." She sighed. "With Potter dead, though – "

"Don't be too sure about that," a voice said behind them.

They all stared at Harry Potter stepped out from under his invisibility cloak several meters away.

"Harry!" Ginny stared at him, her hand pressed over her heart. Honestly, any more shocks today and she was likely to have a heart attack.

"Surprise," he said. He stilled looked haggard, underfed, and like he'd just died, but he was very much alive. Ginny burst into another round of tears and flung herself into his arms. Draco made a disgusted noise and Ananda actually laughed. Harry swung Ginny around once, just like her brothers always did, and set her back on her feet.

"Gin, there isn't much time," he said, though he gave her a broad grin. "I have to face him now – before anyone else is hurt."

"Or dies," Ginny said, chewing her lip.

"No one else will die today," Harry said, so calm and sure that Ginny simply stared. "At least, not by Voldemort's wand."

"We have to keep the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord out of the Great Hall," Ananda spoke up. "There are too many people in here who could be hurt."

"But we need to show them what Voldemort is now," Harry said. "They have to know how weak he is. It's the only way to show people they don't have to fear him anymore. He can't die before we do that."

There was a moment of silence as the four stared at each other.

Then Draco spoke. "I have an idea."

**)BW(**

**TBC**


	21. The Recovery Part 2

_**Part II**_

**)BW(**

Draco, Ananda, and Ginny rushed back outside, into the flurry of battle. "Pull back!" they called to everyone they saw. "Pull back to the castle! Harry's alive."

The DA and members of the Order who could hear them were clearly confused, but slowly began to draw the battle back toward the castle. Harry waited at the top of the steps, the morning light resting over him like a robe. He waited, wand tucked into his pocket, something Ginny knew was virtually impossible for him while his friends were in danger.

When they were within several meters of the castle steps, the Death Eaters faltered. They pointed and shouted to each other.

"Everyone stop!" Harry's voice rang out over the battle, over the grunts of giants and howls of werewolves; over the clash of bodies and spells.

Everyone did stop, turning to stare up at the Boy Who Lived.

"He lives," voices murmured. "Harry Potter lives!"

"This ends now," Harry said, his magically amplified voice echoing over the crowds below. "Tom Riddle, your fight is with me. Call off your monsters and face me in fair combat."

Voldemort stared at Harry, his eyes wide, disbelieving, and furious.

"Of course," Harry went on calmly. "You've never faced me in fair combat before. Maybe you think you're not up to it, Riddle?"

"Don't call me that," Voldemort hissed. "Do not think you are any match for Lord Voldemort, boy."

"I'm alive," Harry said, shrugging. "Obviously, I'm some kind of a match, Riddle. Face me. If you dare." He turned and walked into the castle.

"Come," Voldemort said. "Come, all of you. Watch the destruction of Harry Potter."

He swept through the combatants, all still motionless, and went up the steps. Neville was right behind him. The DA followed, as did most of the Death Eaters. It was so strange, Ginny though. Former enemies crowding together to watch a battle between their leaders. No thought of picking each other off on the way. The Death Eaters were even setting up barriers so the giants, Acromantula, and other beasts had to remain outside, beyond the lines of injured and dead that covered the grass.

They poured into the entrance hall and into the Great Hall. Draco, Ginny, and Ananda had cleared a large area in the center of the hall. All of the injured and dead had been moved to the back of the hall, near an exit. Harry stood in the center of the hall, wand in hand. Voldemort stood facing him, wand at the ready. Ginny found a spot with Ananda, Jools, and Adrienne. They huddled together, eyes fixed on Harry. Ron and Hermione, who stood across the hall with Blaise, Draco, Pansy, and several of the team girls, grinned fierce grins. Pansy leaned on Draco and still looked like she might go into shock – Draco _and _Harry being alive was clearly something she wasn't going to be able to process for a while longer.

"Are you ready to die, boy?" Voldemort asked, raising his wand.

"You know, you've said that to me so many times," Harry said, shaking his head. "And, funny, here I am. Not dead. Again."

Ginny wanted to laugh. Neville, who stood with Dean and Seamus, put a hand over his mouth. The Death Eaters hissed.

"Why can't you ever seem to kill me?" Harry went on. He had started to circle, his eyes fixed on the creature that had made his life a misery since he first entered the magical world; really, since he was a year old.

"You are fortunate in your friends and allies," Voldemort said. "And lucky."

"I am," Harry agreed. "I noticed you couldn't kill my friends today." He threw a faint smile in Draco's direction. "Or my allies."

Draco sneered at him – some things never changed – but didn't deny it. Ananda grinned, gripping Ginny's hand. Ginny saw Bellatrix LeStrange eyeing her in an unsettling way.

"You're a fool, boy," the Dark Lord said, fingers claw-like around his wand.

"I'm not a boy anymore, Riddle," Harry said. "Maybe that's why you're so scared to fight me. I looked like such an easy target when I was a baby."

Voldemort snarled.

"The reason you can't kill me," Harry said, "and the reason you couldn't kill my friends today are connected, Riddle. It's the one thing you never understood about us."

"And what's that? Love!" Voldemort spat the word.

Harry shrugged. "It's pointless explaining it to you," he said. "How many times have we defeated you and how many times have you ignored the reason why?"

"I will defeat you now," Voldemort said, raising his wand. "And we'll see where your vaunted love gets you then."

"It's already taken me beyond death and back again," Harry told him, raising his wand, too. "It saved my friends today, it allows Dumbledore to live beyond the grave …"

People gasped. Harry smiled, though pain flashed across his eyes. "To the well organized mine," he quoted, "death is but the next great adventure."

There was a murmur from around the room, as members of the DA and Order nodded in assent.

"I'm not afraid to die," Harry said. "Not anymore. So kill me – if you can."

The spells were cast at exactly the same moment.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

Their magics met in an explosion of light, but only for a moment. When the smoke cleared, Voldemort lay dead, his unnatural body crumpled on the stone. Small, somehow, Ginny thought distantly.

"He's dead," someone said.

"He can't be!" Bellatrix LeStrange surged forward, falling beside her master and shaking him, as though hoping to reawaken him. Ananda, standing beside Ginny, gave a snort of disgust. Probably one she'd been holding onto a long time, Ginny thought.

A moment later, Bellatrix let out an inhuman howl and rounded on Harry with her wand drawn. Before anyone else had moved, Draco and Pansy, who were closest, leapt forward with drawn wands.

The battle suddenly came to life again, the confusion and chaos deafening. Over the din, Ginny heard her mother shriek, "Get back! Get back! LeStrange is _mine_!"

Harry, Draco, and Pansy were shoved aside as Mrs. Weasley threw herself at Bellatrix and began firing spells. Bellatrix was apparently too shocked to be amused that a dumpy housewife had just begun a duel with her. Ginny had never been more proud of her mother.

The battle didn't last long. Without their master, Voldemort's followers fell into confusion and were quickly subdued. The Order and Aurors took most of them into custody immediately.

Ginny didn't notice any of this until after the fact – when the battle ended, she found herself surrounded by her family. She and Ron were hugged and kissed and hugged and scolded roundly. Ginny didn't notice for a few minutes that someone was missing. Her mother's keening cry of loss told her before she saw the body.

Percy lay on one of the tables at the back of the Great Hall.

Ginny stared at him, the ache she had felt over Draco and Harry magnifying and filling her chest until she couldn't breathe. She reached blindly for Bill, who lifted her up as though she were a little girl again. She pressed her cheek into his shoulder, still staring at Percy's lifeless body. Someone had closed his eyes – he looked so peaceful. Fred and George knelt over him, both in tears. Ginny couldn't have cried. Her whole body was ice-cold. She thought at first Bill was shaking. Then she realized it was her.

The twins were telling their father in broken voices how brave Percy had been in the battle. He'd saved the lives of countless students and thrown himself in the way of countless oncoming curses. Fearless, Fred said. A hero, George added.

Her father stood over Percy, gripping one of his limp hands and murmuring words too low for Ginny to hear. Mrs. Weasley lay across Percy's chest, sobbing uncontrollably into his front. Ginny felt warmth seeping into her shoulder and realized Bill was crying. She twined her legs around his waist and rubbed a hand over his back.

Charlie and Ron stood close together, staring down at their brother. Ron looked like he'd aged a hundred years since Ginny had last seen him. She wondered where Harry and Hermione (essentially part of the Weasley family) had gone. She looked around the hall and saw Jools, Hannah, Parvati, Adrienne, and Patrice. They were talking quietly to a group of DA people, all standing a bit closer together than was really necessary.

Ginny's eyes continued to travel around the room. A group of Slytherins stood around a table near the door. Harry and Hermione stood with them, for some reason. Blaise had his face pressed into Hermione's shoulder and Pansy sobbed into Harry's. Draco stood alone, staring down at the table. Ananda leaned on the table beside him, her eyes wide and haunted. A sudden gap in the mass of people showed Ginny what they were all staring at.

Severus Snape lay on the tabletop, his black robes wreathed around him. Ginny didn't have any room left in her for pain or anguish, but when she caught Draco's eye, she tried to offer him something. She knew what it meant to lose someone you loved. Today, she knew.

She stayed with her family for a while, losing all track of time. Eventually, it became clear that help was needed all over the castle. Bill, Charlie, and Mr. Weasley went to help the teachers, parents, and Aurors, leaving the twins and Mrs. Weasley with Percy's body. Ron, Ginny saw, had slipped away. Ginny saw him leave the hall with Harry and Hermione, who had left Blaise and Pansy to Draco's care.

"Gin."

Ginny turned. Jools stood behind her. She glanced around Ginny, her eyes wide. "Oh, Gin, I'm so sorry!"

Ginny accepted a hug, though she was becoming aware of how long it would take her to realize Percy was gone.

"I know your family needs you now," Jools said slowly. "But I – some of the team hasn't got any family. The Slytherins – well, they lost Snape." Jools gave her a piercing look. "And everyone wants to know what the hell is going on with Ananda."

Ginny looked around. Ananda had detached herself from Snape's table and stood alone near the door, looking lost. The temporary comradery between her, Pansy, Jools, and Draco, forged in the heat of battle, had disappeared. Ginny felt dreadful.

"There's nothing I can do here," Ginny said. "Let's round everyone up. I think Hermione is with Harry and Ron."

"She is, but she promised to come to us the minute she could," Jools said.

"Mum," Ginny said, turning and kneeling by the older woman.

"Ginny," her mother managed, staring at her with a look Ginny would never forget.

"I'm sorry, Mummy," Ginny said, hugging her mother and wishing she could do something – however horrid she felt, it was nothing to what Molly Weasley was feeling now.

"Oh, Ginny," her mother said, pressing a kiss to her temple. "My little girl."

"Mum, some of my friends are hurt," Ginny said gently. "I have to go help them but I promise I'll be back soon."

Her mother gazed at her with wide eyes. "I promise I'll come back, Mum," Ginny repeated, looking into her fearful face. "I swear I will."

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Where's Ron?" she asked suddenly, her eyes darting around.

"Harry and Hermione are taking care of him," Ginny told her. "He'll come back soon."

Mrs. Weasley looked relieved. "He's safe if he's with Harry and Hermione," she said. Her face crumpled. "Oh, Ginny …"

"Go, Gin." George pulled their mother into his arms. "We'll take care of her."

Ginny nodded and kissed his cheek. "Be back soon."

"You'd better or we'll set Peeves on you," Fred threatened.

"Ooh, scary!"

Fred grinned – small and weak, but a grin nonetheless.

Ginny turned and followed Jools, who had been waiting at a discreet distance, across the hall.

"Is Terry okay?" Ginny asked suddenly, remembering Jools had family, too.

Jools nodded. "He's in hospital – broken leg," she said. "But he's fine. My parents are with him." She let a small smile flash across her face at the thought – a look Ginny envied.

They were almost to Snape's table, ready to collect the Slytherins, when Ginny paused.

"I'll be right back," she said, pulling away from Jools and heading toward the doors.

Ananda stood by herself, lost and painfully alone in the whirled of muted activity around her.

Her lip trembled. "He was my mentor," she said as Ginny drew up to her. "He – he took care of me, looked after me. He trained me." She looked away, across the hall to the table where a few Slytherins, including Draco, Pansy, and Blaise, remained around their professor. "No one else knew – he knew everything."

Ginny took her friend in her arms. "I lost someone today, too," she said quietly, the horrible reality sinking into the icy chill protecting her heart from the impact of that loss. "I know, Nanda."

"I'm sorry, Gin."

They held onto each other for a moment, shaking and scared and and hurt and relieved it was over.

"We have something we have to do right now," Ginny said, coming to a decision as she pulled back.

"What?" Ananda asked miserably, her eyes dull.

"It's time our friends know you're a hero," Ginny said firmly. "You need them right now and they need you, too, even though they don't know it yet."

"Who will believe me?" Ananda murmured. "Without Professor Snape to back me up ..." She swallowed hard.

"Jools is already halfway there, and you kidnapped and starved her," Ginny said, giving her friend's shoulders a shake. "And everyone else has to believe it – it's the truth, with or without Sn – Professor Snape's word." Ginny leaned forward. "Please, Ananda. You don't have to be alone anymore."

"I'm scared," Ananda whispered.

"After everything you've been through?" Ginny asked, looking her in the eye. "This will be a walk by the lake."

"Yeah," Ananda retorted with a small spark of her old fire. "Like a walk round the lake when the giant squid is grouchy and decides to eat you."

"The giant squid has never eaten anyone," Ginny said, pulling Ananda with her toward the others. She whispered, "Stop being such a Hufflepuff."

"I'm telling Captain Susie you said that." But Ananda followed her slowly toward the others.

**)BW(**

Draco wasn't sure how long he stared down at Professor Snape's still, peaceful face. Across the hall, his father lay on another table, just as – as dead. Draco's mother knelt over him, sobbing uncontrollably. Draco supposed he ought to be with her. But he belonged here, with the man who had freed him and empowered him and saved him from the life his father would have chosen for him.

Pansy's tears rolled onto the fabric of Snape's robe as she sobbed into his shoulder. Blaise leaned on Draco, his own tears tangling in his eyelashes. Jessica stood behind Pansy, an uncertain hand on her shoulder. The second year's eyes glistened with tears as she stared at Snape's still face.

Snape had been more than a professor to them – he had been their mentor, their protector, more of a father than Pansy or Draco had ever really had. He had raised them, helped put their feet on the right path.

He deserved better. None of them had seen him fall.

"Draco."

Ginny stood by him, slid her arms around him and let him hold onto her. He did – it wasn't her sorrow but it was so comfortable to have her there.

"He's a hero, you know," she murmured.

"We know," Blaise murmured, his voice shaking. "He was always a hero to us."

"You don't know," Ginny said but stopped. "Wait until Ananda tells you what he's done."

"What the hell does she know?" Pansy demanded, glaring at Ginny from Snape's shoulder.

"A lot, if you're willing to listen," Ginny retorted, though gently. "Please," she added softly, "the team needs you lot right now. Some of them are really badly hurt."

Draco wanted to object.

"It's all right," Daniel Jones said. He and his friend Juliette, both bandaged but mercifully alive, appeared at Draco's elbow. "We'll stay with him. He won't be alone." Draco realized there was a whole crowd of other Slytherins around the table, waiting to say goodbye to Professor Snape themselves.

Draco nodded. "Pans, Blaise, Jess."

They moved slowly away from the body. Ginny ducked under Draco's arm and pulled Ananda, who had been hanging back, with her. Draco's cousin looked over her shoulder at Snape's body, her eyes so bleak Draco almost wanted to reach out to her.

He looked around at the other girls collected near the Great Hall's massive doors – Adrienne and Hannah Abbot, Parvati and Patrice Patil, Jools and Natalie.

"Where are the others?" he asked.

"Millicent and Betina are in hospital," Jools said. "Ginny and I saw them there earlier." She paused. "I think they're both going to be okay but Betina looked really bad. Sick or something."

"Susie is up there, too," Hannah said slowly. "We took her earlier."

"What happened?" Draco asked. Something in her voice …

"We should go see her right away," Hannah said, avoiding his eye. "She's – it's bad."

"And where's Granger?" Draco added.

"She's with Ron and Harry," Ginny said. "I saw them leave."

"Either of you mind explaining what the hell is going on?" Pansy demanded of Ginny and Ananda.

"Not until we've seen to the others," Ginny said firmly. "They need us right now."

"Let's go." Draco led the way out of the hall, not letting himself look back at Snape or reach out for Ginny. He noticed Ananda struggling to remain behind in the hall. She and Ginny exchanged heated words ("I'm going to kill you, Weasley! They don't want to see me!" "They all need to see you, Malfoy, and you need them, so stop being a ninny and come on!").

"Do you happen to know what's going on with those two?" Draco demanded of Jools.

"Why would I know anything?" she asked.

"You did disappear with Weasley halfway through the battle," Draco hissed. "Gave us a right scare, I can tell you."

"All I know is that Ginny thinks Ananda is Merlin, all of a sudden," Jools said. "She insisted she had to go to Snape and when we got into the Shrieking Shack, she and Ananda were hugging and going on like best mates. Ginny told me just to trust her."

"Why?"

"Coach, I don't know and she wouldn't tell me anything," Jools retorted. "I'm as curious as you."

Disbelieving, more like, Draco thought. After everything Ananda (disguised as Jools) had put Ginny through, never mind Jools herself … he glanced back. Ginny and Ananda walked a few meters behind the group. Their arms were linked and they spoke in low voices.

"You'd think they were best bloody friends," Pansy muttered, appearing on Draco's other side. Draco took her arm. Her tears had stopped.

"Any ideas?" Draco asked.

"Nothing, except I think Weasley might have take a Confundus to the head," Pansy muttered. "And where the hell has Potter got to?" Draco raised his eyebrows. "What? We need Granger!"

"_I_ need her," Blaise mumbled from Pansy's other side. He looked subdued but gave them a small smirk. "Up against a wall, possibly."

"Please, spare us all," Pansy said, wincing. "For Merlin's sake, Blaise!"

Jessica, wiping tears from her eyes, managed a giggled.

"Least I'm honest about the Gryffindors I'm snogging," Blaise said, nose in the air, "unlike some Slytherins I could mention but won't."

"Hey, if Jess chooses to keep her love affair with the Creevey freaks to herself, that's her business," Pansy said, her lip twitching.

"Oy!" Jess shouted as the girls around them laughed.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Jess," Natalie said. "They're very nice boys and – ow!"

It was good to hear them all laughing again, Draco thought.

They stopped laughing at the hospital door.

Draco went in first, determined not to crowd the wing and get booted out. Jools insisted on coming as well, pointing out that as captain, she was in charge of the health of every girl, just as much as he was. He was too tired and worried to argue.

"You may see Johnson and Bulstrode," Madam Pomphrey told Draco. She looked like she hadn't slept in days. He tried not to look at the injured and dead crowding the room. Even with the help of Aurors, parents, and the Order of the Phoenix, the work was constant and slow.

"What about Susie?" Jools asked.

"She won't see anyone right now," the hospital matron said sternly. "We must respect her wishes."

"How long has she been by herself?" Jools demanded.

"Never you mind, young lady," Madam Pomphrey said. "You may visit your friends for a short time but they need rest."

"That's fine," Draco said, with a restraining hand on Jools' shoulder. She glowered at him but didn't argue until Madam Pomphrey had hurried away to tend other victims.

"We'll see her anyway," Draco murmured as they went to Betina and Millicent's corner. "She shouldn't be alone, whatever the problem is."

"It can't be anything fatal if she's been left alone so long," Jools said in a low voice, her brow pinched.

"I doubt it," Draco said, though the feeling lingered that something was very wrong. "Come on – Johnson and Millie first."

Betina was asleep, her face white. Millicent lay beside her, bandaged all over but wide awake. She was pressing a wet cloth to Betina's face. "Thank Merlin!" she said as they came in. "I'm going to die of boredom if you don't break me out."

"We're not here to hack off the healers," Draco told her, kissing her forehead. "We're here with the team, making the rounds."

Betina's eyes fluttered open. "Hi, coach."

"All right, Johnson?"

"Better," she said. Draco raised her eyebrows and she smiled. "No, it's fine. My fever broke an hour ago and Mill's been giving me water."

"She does look better," Millicent promised, setting the wet cloth on the bedside table and reaching for a small bottle of water. She tipped a little water into Betina's mouth. The Hufflepuff swallowed and sighed.

"You look after each other," Draco ordered. The ball of nerves in his chest began to relax. These two would be fine and well looked-after. He decided to wait on telling Millicent about Snape. It would hurt her terribly and she needed all her strength to heal physically right now. "We'll send the team in as soon as we can."

"I want to hear everything!" Millicent said, glowering at Draco. "Injured five minutes into the battle. I didn't do anything."

"You did plenty," he said firmly, trying not to think of Snape. "Don't talk nonsense, Millie."

"Don't call me Millie!" she bellowed, convincing Draco that his Beater was well on the mend.

"Shut up, you'll get us thrown out!" Jools said. "All right, Mill?"

"Fine," Millicent grumbled. She didn't object to Jools' gentle hug. "Reckon you saw a right side more than I did."

"The others want to see you," Jools said quickly. "Let me see if I can sneak them in." She ran a hand over Betina's limp hair. "You up for some company, Seeker?"

"Oh, yes please!" Betina grinned sleepily.

"She's still on three potions for the pain," Millicent told Jools. "High as a kite, this one."

"Am not," Betina said with a sloppy smile.

Draco left them to it and went in search of his other captain. She wasn't hard to find. She was the only patient with the curtains drawn around her bed. Draco knew right away something must be very wrong. He pushed the curtain aside. She lay on her side, facing away from the slit in the curtain. She had blankets piled over her. The only reason Draco was sure it was Susie in the bed was because he could see her red hair against the pillows.

"Bones?"

"Go away." The words were so faint Draco almost didn't catch them.

"No."

"Please?"

He almost did leave then, but caught himself and moved into the small space. Someone had put a chair by the bed. He sat in it.

"Please go, coach." Her voice wobbled.

"You don't have to talk to me or tell me what's wrong, but you can't lie in here by yourself," Draco said flatly. "I won't bother you."

Susie rolled onto her back and threw a look at him. She looked absolutely fine, except a bandage wrapped around her throat. "You can't see me, coach. No one can. Not now."

"You look just fine to me," Draco said, grouchy and very worried.

"I'm not." Susie rolled away. "I'll never be fine again."

"Suit yourself," he said. "I'm still not getting out of this chair." He folded his arms and waited. He had to wait a long time. He heard the other team girls swarm the hospital wing. They got several minutes with Millicent and Betina before Madam Pomphrey shrieked the wing down scolding them. Ginny, Jools, and Ananda finagled permission to stay, on the grounds that they had done magical healing. Madam Pomphrey must have been desperate if she was letting them stay. They clearly wanted any excuse to talk to the injured that they could get – well, and any reason to hide, in Ananda's case.

"They sound healthy."

Susie's voice brought Draco back to the dark curtained area in which he sat.

"We're all going to pull through," Draco said simply. "Mostly," he added, wincing as he remembered Snape down in the Great Hall. All the Slytherin team girls would be terribly hurt by the loss of Snape.

"Nothing short of a miracle," Susie murmured. "I was sure Jess or Patrice were done-for. Or Betina."

"They're fine," Draco said. "And Betina will heal – probably develop an addiction to pain potions. Jess and Patrice weren't hurt at all. Clever girls."

"Thank Merlin," Susie murmured.

"How long are you planning on staying in here?" Draco asked.

"As long as Madam Pomphrey makes me," Susie returned, curling into a tighter ball under the blankets.

"I mean in this dark corner, hiding from your friends," Draco said, making the words as gentle as he could.

"I don't know." Draco almost didn't catch the answer. He did catch the hopeless note in her voice.

"Coach? Coach, are you in here?"

Hermione Granger came through the curtain. "Oh, Susie, I'm sorry," she said immediately. "I was just looking for the coach and – "

"I – it's okay, Hermione." Susie rolled onto her back. Draco was startled to see the tears glittering on her cheeks.

"Do you need anything?" Granger asked, crossing the room.

Susie shook her head, face crumpling and tears dripping off her chin. Granger reached out a hand and brushed it across Susie's face.

"What am I going to do, Mione?" the Keeper moaned, squeezing her eyes shut. "I feel empty. I'm so scared."

The ball of dread in Draco's chest grew – what was she talking about?

"Susie." Granger pulled the ball of blankets that was Susie upright and put her arms around her. Susie burst into body-wracking sobs, her face in Granger's shoulder. Granger looked at Draco with tears in her own eye. Draco gave her a look that demanded to know what was going on.

"You can tell the coach, Susie," Granger said softly, rubbing her back. "He'll understand. He can help. Please," she begged. "You can't face this alone. Let us help you."

"I'm scared," Susie said again.

"I know," Granger said. "But you're also courageous. Please," she said again, looking Susie in the eye. "Can I show him?"

Susie stared at Draco, tears still trickling down her freckled cheeks. Draco met her eye. "I told you, I'm going anywhere, Bones," he said firmly. He braced himself, not sure what to expect. Susie nodded after a long moment. Gently, Granger unwrapped some of the blankets. The bandages Draco had thought only covered her throat actually extended across her shoulders –

And over the stump where her right arm had been.

Draco didn't make a sound – he had been preparing himself not to flinch or gasp. Something in his chest lurched at the sight; he felt cold. He forced himself to look from the bandaged stump of her arm, which was only extended away from her shoulder a few inches, and up into her face. She looked frightened and angry and so hurt. "I'm so sorry," he said, finding that he meant it and that his throat was too tight to say anything else.

Granger bundled Susie back into her cocoon of blankets. Susie was still crying but not as hard or wildly as before. Granger pulled Susie back into her arms and rocked her gently, rubbing gentle circles over her back. "Can I tell him what happened, Susie?" she asked softly. "Wouldn't it help if someone else knew?"

"Okay," came a small voice from the blankets. "Fast please."

"I'll tell him and then we'll leave you for a bit, shall we?" Granger asked.

"No, please." Susie's shoulders began to shake. "I don't want to be alone now – now the coach knows."

"You won't be," Granger promised.

"But don't tell anyone else just yet," Susie begged. "Hannah knows. I – I'm not ready for

Jools or – "

"No one else," Granger promised.

"What happened?" Draco managed, his throat unsticking just enough. "Were you there, Granger?"

"I was nearby," Granger said, swallowing as she stared at Draco through the gloom. "We were battling a group of werewolves. Me and Susie and Professor Lupin and some other students and some Aurors. Susie went down – one of the werewolves was tearing into her. Lupin and I got there in time to hex him and pull him off. But – but he took most of her arm with him. Lupin suspended Susie in a sort of stasis, and Hannah and I brought her up here. By the time we got here, the stasis was wearing off. Madam Pomphrey said she couldn't save the arm and if she tried to, it most likely wouldn't ever really work again. And there was a chance that Susie would wind up a lycanthrope – the blood poisoning had already begun."

"So they removed her arm?" Draco asked quietly, his stomach turning at the thought of a werewolf ripping it off.

"Right away," Granger said. "She didn't feel a thing, but it must have been dreadful when she woke up." She rubbed Susie's back some more as the Keeper trembled in her arms.

Draco sat back, running a hand over his face. Never, since Snape had helped him that night months ago when he'd been so terrified of the letter from his father, had he doubted he'd chosen the right side. He thought of his mother, crying over his father's body in the Great Hall. The body of a murderer; a man who helped bring werewolves into a school full of kids because a more powerful man told him to. Draco felt sick.

Granger watched his face. When he met her eye again, she reached out a hand. Hesitantly, he took it. She squeezed his hand once and let go.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" he asked, staring down at his hands in his lap.

"I mean, about Professor Snape," she said. "I know what he meant to Blaise – what he meant to all of you. And ..." She paused. "Harry says Snape is a hero."

"A hero?" Draco asked distantly.

"It's all to do with this memory Snape left for Harry, telling him how to defeat Voldemort," Granger explained. "Harry didn't tell me everything. He just said Snape had sacrificed more than anyone else and never stopped being Dumbledore's man for a second." Granger frowned. "It sounds like your cousin might know something about all this," she said. "What's this I hear about Ananda being one of the good guys?"

"Search me," Draco muttered, grateful for the change in subject. He had always trusted, admired, and valued Snape. Somehow, him being a hero made the idea of his death that much harder to cope with. "No one tells me a bloody thing anymore."

Granger actually managed a weak giggle.

"Maybe you'd better go ask Ginny about it," she suggested. "She and Ananda are still in here somewhere, aren't they?"

"Probably," Draco said. He hesitated, glancing at Susie.

"I'll stay with her," Granger said quietly. "You might send Hannah in soon, though. Harry needs me, too."

"And Blaise said something dreadful about you and a wall earlier," Draco said, grinning a little when she went brilliant red. "Aren't you popular today."

She glowered at him. "Go away, coach. I still have my wand on me."

He went, smirking over his shoulder at her.

"Right," he said, when he found Ginny mixing pepper-up potions with Ananda. "You tell me and you tell me now."

"You're so bossy," Ginny said, pushing him aside with her elbow and reaching for a bottom of beetles. Ananda snickered.

"Now, cousin!" he snapped, rounding on her. "Do you want me to yell the place down and get us all thrown out?"

"All right, all right, your bloody highness." Ananda pulled the cauldron off the fire she had conjured and poured it into a bottle. She waved her wand and a little label appeared on the side. "Let's do this quietly, please."

"You should just tell Betina and Millie, while you're at it," Ginny pointed out. "And Pansy. She's in with them now. And Jools. Of everyone, Jools has the right to know."

"All right, fine." Ananda's voice was clipped, a sure sign she was anxious.

They rallied around the invalids' bed, standing and sitting and hoping Madam Pomphrey was busy enough not to notice her patients being disturbed.

"This had better be a damned good story," Millicent said, glaring at Ananda.

"Stop that," Ginny ordered. "She saved all our lives, Bulstrode." She glanced at Ananda. "Start at the beginning," she said quietly. "Don't leave anything out."

Ananda took a deep breath, set her shoulders, and began. "You all remember when Dumbledore started sponsoring the team and we had to send notes home asking our parents if we could be on the team?" The girls nodded – they hadn't realized the impact the responses to those letters would have. "Of course, my mum said no. She's lived in France since my uncle Lucius joined up with the Dark Lord years ago. She almost didn't let me come to Hogwarts when I was eleven. When she got the note about the team, she sent me an owl straight away, telling me if I didn't quit she'd pull me out of Hogwarts." Ananda shrugged. "It was no more than I expected. What I didn't expect was that Mum's friends in London, who work for Ministry Intelligence, were reporting that the Dark Lord was taking an interest in Hogwarts. Mum wanted to pull me out of Hogwarts then anyway, team or no team. I told her I was safer here with Dumbledore than anywhere and for the moment, she let me off. But she kept sending me messages about how Bellatrix LeStrange was becoming obsessed with rumors about an inter-house Quidditch team."

The girls gasped. Draco clenched his fists. "Not obsessed with the Quidditch team itself, of course," Ananda went on. "But the idea of the four houses uniting, in some way. Death Eaters whose kids were at Hogwarts began reporting strange behavior – Slytherins and Hufflepuffs speaking civilly to each other. Ravenclaws and Gryffindors studying together. Gryffindors and Slytherins having a laugh. A team that united the best that all four houses had to offer." Ananda sighed. "I thought the whole thing was ridiculous. What did the Dark Lord care about a bunch of kids?" She shivered. "But he did care. A lot. I think he thought that the houses coming together meant Dumbledore was building an army against him or something."

"Our Quidditch team started all this?" Jools asked faintly.

"When, in the whole history of the school, have the four houses come together?" Draco pointed out, shaking his head. "It's never been done. The Dark Lord would have thought Quidditch was a smoke screen for something bigger. Maybe something related to Potter."

"That's exactly what he thought," Ananda said, nodding. "I was off the team – I felt helpless. Then I realized there was a way I could help everyone." She swallowed. "It was crazy and completely stupid. But Bellatrix LeStrange knew by then she had lost you, Draco. Her favorite. Her protege. She knew when she didn't hear back from your letters and you kept making excuses to your family about staying at school for extra study. Your parents didn't realize right away, but Bellatrix knew. She started looking for someone else, someone Pure-blooded."

"You offered yourself," Pansy breathed.

"I knew if I was on the inside, I'd be able to keep track of what was going on," Ananda said, looking down at the bedspread. "Of course, convincing Aunt Bella – she made me call her that – convincing her I was genuine was hard. I had to cut all ties with the team – with my real friends." Ginny put her arm around her. Ananda leaned into her. "To keep you safe and to convince Aunt Bella I really wanted to be her protege. I found some Slytherin bullies to hang around with, just to make the whole thing more convincing. Anyway, Aunt Bella liked me right away. I knew how to talk to her, get under her skin. But she said I had to prove myself somehow, do something more. She said I should never have quit the team – I could have spied on you all, found out if the team was a cover for some sort of resistance movement."

"So you found a way back onto the team," Jools said, her eyes wide.

Ananda couldn't or wouldn't look at her. "It was perfect," she murmured. "I had just come from a conversation with Aunt Bella – she gave me different magical objects to use to communicate with her while I was in the castle – and I couldn't think of a way back onto the team. I caught the whole misunderstanding between Jools, Draco, and Ginny. It was perfect timing – the whole plan came into my head the moment I saw you. And Jools was so easy to catch – all alone." Ananda blinked hard. "I don't expect you to forgive me. Ever. But I did what I had to do. Kidnap, torture, and spying. I proved myself and became Aunt Bella's protege. I knew what she was doing and what the Inner Circle was doing. The Dark Lord didn't really care about me – he didn't think I was capable of much – so he let Aunt Bella have me as a 'pet.'"

"Wow, Ananda!" Betina had struggled into a sitting position, leaning against Millicent. Her dark eyes were round. "You're so brave!"

Ananda's lip quivered.

"What happened next?" Ginny coaxed.

"I realized all this information I was getting wasn't going to good use," Ananda said. "I didn't think Dumbledore would trust me and if anyone in the Dark Lord's crowd found out I was going to him ... well, I couldn't do that. But I got lucky – Professor Snape came to see me." Her eyes clouded in pain. "He told me he hoped I wasn't as big a fool as I seemed." She managed a smile. "I was so desperate and scared and struggling to keep up the Jools disguise. I told him everything and then I started to cry." She threw a hesitant smile at Pansy. "You know how much he loved it when girls cry."

Pansy sniffled, her lips curling into a crooked smile. "It was his favorite thing."

"What do you mean, was?" Millicent demanded.

"Later, Mill," Draco cut in gently.

"He told me to stop being a ninny and, since I'd gotten myself into the mess I was in, to decide if I wanted to continue or not." She lifted her chin. "I told him that if this was one thing I could do to help my best friends – and my family," she added, glancing at Draco. "Then, hell yeah, I wanted to continue."

Draco noticed several of the girls nodding. They understood "hell yeah."

"He told me I could report to him," Ananda said. "I suddenly realized I didn't know for sure that _he_ was trustworthy. I asked him and he took me to Dumbledore and they explained their plans to me. All about – about Dumbledore dying and – "

"Wait a minute," Jools broke in. "You know how that happened?"

"Of course," Ananda said, her eyes suddenly hollow. "I had to do it."

The gasps and outcries were only just hushed before Madam Pomphrey heard.

Ginny was the only one of them who didn't look horrified or furious. She put a hand on Ananda's shoulder, her eyes full of understanding. Draco wondered if there were a more loyal, dedicated friend alive than Ginny Weasley. He supposed the only one who could compare was Ananda herself.

"It was the final task," Ananda explained. "Even the Dark Lord couldn't doubt my loyalty if I killed the greatest wizard the world has ever seen." She choked back a sob, leaning on Ginny for a moment. "Professor Snape was supposed to do it – to prove _his_ loyalty. But Dumbledore said if I could do it, I'd have Aunt Bella's complete trust. She'd tell me everything about the Inner Circle, everything she knew about the Dark Lord. Dumbledore said I didn't have to – Professor Snape could do it."

"I still can't believe – did Dumbledore really plan his own death?" Millicent asked, a little breathless.

"Boy, did the _Daily Prophet_ get it wrong," Jools murmured. "I mean, they implicated Harry."

"Yeah, but who really believed that?" Ginny pointed out.

"It was definitely me," Ananda said quietly, tears glittering on her cheeks. "Dumbledore knew it was the only way to really, truly beat the Dark Lord. He also knew it would get Professor Snape and I close enough to help Potter when he needed us. And it allowed me to finish my original plan."

"Which was?" Pansy demanded, leaning forward.

"To break up the team, of course," Ananda said, surprised. "You were all targets, especially with me forced to spy on you. I had to force you to break up so that you'd be out of the Dark Lord's sight and so that you'd all put your energy into the DA, something he didn't actually know about." Ananda smiled faintly. "Professor Snape knew all about it, of course. He did everything he could to help you without seeming like he was. He cleared corridors at times he knew you'd choose to raid the hospital and kitchens. He gave special instructions to the House-Elves and Madam Pomphrey to provide everything you needed."

"Huh." Draco blinked. "That explains why even Justin Finch-Fletchely never botched a raid."

Ginny grinned at him.

"I was told to let Jools be rescued," Ananda went on. "There was no point in me owning her identity anymore, with the team falling apart."

"But it was Snape becoming headmaster that broke the team up," Jools said slowly. "I mean, he stopped us playing."

"Sure, but Ananda created all the right rips and tears – it was inevitable that we'd have to quit anyway," Ginny pointed out. "And most of us were so involved with the DA that we couldn't have done both."

"But she also created bonds between members of the team, just by trying to rip it apart," Draco realized. "Those bonds meant the Slytherins became part of the DA." Ginny and Pansy exchange nods.

"And when we rescued the real Jools, we all felt more strongly connected than we ever had before," Ginny said. Suddenly, there were tears in her eyes. "You were all alone," she said, hugging Ananda again. "We were afraid but we had each other. We all hated you and ..."

"You were supposed to," Ananda said. "Come on, Gin, don't cry. My evil plan was brilliant!" She gave a half-hearted maniacal laugh and looked absurdly pleased when Millicent and Pansy chuckled.

"So the DA formed and the Carrows came to Hogwarts," Ginny went on. "Oh, when the Death Eaters came into the castle, the night Dumbledore died – did you let them in?"

"I wasn't supposed to know about the raid until Professor Snape had me on the roof with Dumbledore and the Death Eaters the Dark Lord sent to witness," Ananda said. "It was part of the final test. I wasn't supposed to have time to think about it." She threw a half-smile at Draco. "This was supposed to be your task, you know. To prove our family was still faithful to the Dark Lord."

Draco felt a stab of guilt. Ananda had taken it all on herself, for his sake and for her friends. "Don't lose any sleep over it," Ananda said, nudging his shoulder. "I'm okay, I did what had to be done. Anyway, the team needed their coach." She sighed. "No, I didn't let the Death Eaters in. But I knew they were coming because Professor Snape told me. So I let slip to several ghosts and they got word to everyone in their common rooms. They also woke the teachers up in time to contact the Order."

"And the Carrows?" Jools asked.

"By the time Professor Snape was headmaster, I knew the Dark Lord's plans for Hogwarts," Ananda said. "I was Professor Snape's one ally. Not even the Order of the Phoenix knew his real plan. They were pretty convinced he was the Dark Lord's double agent, not Dumbledore's, after the first attack on the castle."

"Because he was going around helping the Carrows capture people and making it pretty clear he was the Dark Lord's inside man," Draco said slowly.

"Yeah. Who was going to believe I was important at all? I'm just a kid," Ananda murmured. "Only the Death Eaters who – who saw me kill Dumbledore knew the truth and they weren't going to bother telling anyone." She swallowed hard.

"But Snape was Dumbledore's man all along," Ginny said, shaking her head.

"I always knew he was," Draco murmured, more to himself than anyone else. Snape had saved him from his family when he thought he'd collapse under the pressure from home. He had saved most of the Slytherins, scared and unsure. Snape had stepped between them and the Dark Lord. Draco swallowed. Ginny's hand slipped into his and squeezed gently.

"I won't explain how Potter finally killed Voldemort or what he, Hermione, and Weasley had to do to bring him down," Ananda went on. "It's complicated and that's their story. I will say that Professor Snape and I had several tasks we had to do for Potter, at Dumbledore's request. We had to help Potter find some magical objects and destroy them." Ananda glanced at Ginny. "That's where Ginny came in."

"That night Snape caught me," Ginny said, "he took me into this 'secret lab' – " She made exaggerated quotations marks with her fingers – "and told me what had to be done. Of course, I thought he and Ananda were traitors. They had to full-body bind me before I would listen to either of them long enough to realize they were telling the truth." She smiled faintly. "When they told me how I could help – by helping prepare the DA to defend the castle and getting a memory to Harry when he needed it – of course I said I would."

"What about killing the snake?" Pansy asked. "That took serious guts, Weasley."

"That was improv," Ginny said, grinning. "Snape and Ananda were supposed to kill Nagini when Voldemort left them alone with her. They weren't expecting to get stuck alone with her in the Shrieking Shack. They couldn't get the spell down, but when Snape was ordered to bring Nagini with him to the castle – after we all thought Harry and the coach were dead – and Snape saw Ron holding the sword of Godric Gryffindor, he thought maybe I could kill her. She was one of the magical objects that had to be destroyed for Harry to defeat Voldemort. Gryffindor's sword was one of the few things that could destroy her," Ginny added by way of explanation. Draco's head was starting to spin. "And Snape knew I was the only good guy who trusted him. So he did this weird Legilimency thing called projecting – he showed me in my mind what I had to do." She looked at Ananda. "It was nothing compared to what you had to do, but I'm glad I could help."

"Jumping between Death Eaters and the DA took guts, like Pansy said," Ananda said.

"So that's it?" Millicent said to Ananda, her head on one side. "You were one of the good guys all along?"

"The goodest of the good guys," Ginny said stoutly. "Haven't you been listening, Bulstrode? She put herself between us and Voldemort."

There was a moment of silence.

"Like I said, I did some rotten things," Ananda said quickly. "I don't expect to be forgiven but I thought you all should know that – "

Pansy was the first around the bed, her arms tight around Ananda. Millicent struggled to stand and limped over to join her. Ginny backed away, grinning uncontrollably. She smiled at Draco, so happy and relieved Ananda was home.

Betina's cries of, "You're amazing, Ananda. I love you!" were what got them all thrown out and threatened with bedpan duty if they ever returned.

"It's just as well," Draco pointed out, taking the opportunity to hug Ananda while he tried to clear his damned throat. "You still have the rest of the team to tell."

Ananda tried an aggravated groan but was grinning too widely because Pansy and Millicent had put their arms around her and Ginny had kissed her cheek. The group moved off down the corridor and Draco fell back to walk with Jools. He linked his arm through hers the way she had done in the past.

"Well, Boot?" he said softly. "Will you be able to forgive her?"

"I don't know," Jools said slowly, leaning comfortably into his side. "I – I want to. But she scared me so much." She sighed. "She didn't hurt me or anything when she captured me. She gave me enough food and was gentle when she took all my hair. And it must have been so hard for her, all those months. But – I don't know."

"No rush," Draco said. "Just remember – you're still a captain."

"What's happened to Susie?" Jools asked softly. "Draco, is it terrible?"

Draco shook his head. "She'll want to tell you, and soon. I don't – just let her tell you, when she's ready."

Jools nodded, her brow creased with worry.

"In the meantime," Draco said. "Think about Ananda, yeah?"

"Have you forgiven her?" Jools asked.

"Are you kidding?" Draco stared at his cousin's plait, swinging behind her as she skipped along between Pansy and Millicent (who had been her heroes since she was little, Draco remembered, before they became her friends on the pitch). "After what she did for me? I was supposed to do all those things she did. She took my place and became a spy – she saved me, more than anyone else. I owe her – " He paused, shook his head. "I owe her everything."

Jools nodded, biting her lip.

When they reached the Great Hall, Jools squeezed his arm and let go. "Thanks, coach." She paused. "I don't know if Ginny told you, but one of her brothers died. She's going to – she's really going to need you. And with you losing Professor Snape ... well, I expect you need her, too." Jools gave him a strong smile. He knew what an effort it cost her not to mind about him and Ginny.

He kissed her cheek. "Thanks, Jools."

"Sure, mate. I'll try and round up the rest of the team." She hugged him and disappeared into the Great Hall. Draco moved to Ginny's side. She had been laughing and smiling on the walk there but now she stood, watching the door swing shut behind Pansy, Millicent, and Ananda.

"Gin?" Draco turned her to face him. The hollow look in her eyes haunted him.

"I'm so sorry about Professor Snape," she said quickly, looking up into his eyes. He looked away, a lump in his throat and an ache building in his chest. "I know what he meant to you and – he really was a hero."

"That makes it worse," Draco managed, trying to clear his throat. "He didn't deserve – no one even saw how – "

She put her arms around him and pressed his face into her hair for a long moment. When he felt enough in control of himself to speak, he said quietly, "I'll miss him. Gin, I heard about your brother."

She began to shake, her fingers tightening in his robes. "It didn't hurt as much when I was with you all in the hospital," she said. "But, Draco – Percy's gone and ..."

They didn't go into the hall for a long time. They stood clinging to each other in the entrance hall, not saying much but leaning on each other in an exhausted kind of relief. Ginny wasn't crying for her brother, Draco realized after a while. Maybe this pain hurt too much for tears.

"I saw your dad in there, too," Ginny said into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Draco."

"Don't be," Draco said, his fists clenching in her robes. "He wasn't a good man."

"But he was your father," Ginny said quietly.

"Professor Snape was more my father than Lucius Malfoy was." Draco squeezed his eyes shut. It was the truth – Professor Snape had really taken care of him. His father certainly never had.

Ginny didn't say anything for a moment. "The team is family for some of the girls now," she said. She pulled back and looked up at him. "Daniel Jones asked me last week what the team would do after the war. I never thought beyond the war. What will we do now?"

**)BW(**

Weeks passed and Hogwarts began to put itself back together.

Most of the school had been in hiding or fighting Snape and the Carrows for months. Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress, offered to keep the school open in the summer, for those who wanted to catch up and help rebuild the battered castle. She also arranged for the seventh years to take their N.E.W.T.s when their professors decided they were ready.

Before everyone left, there was a memorial service for all those lost. At Harry's insistence, Severus Snape was the buried in a tomb beside Dumbledore's. Harry and Ananda told the story of Snape's heroic sacrifice to protect Hogwarts. Most of the audience cried, including Ginny. She had, of course, realized what an incredibly brave man he was. She just hadn't realized the extent of his sacrifice until Ananda and Harry put their stories together.

Around Snape and Dumbledore's graves appeared a hundred little headstones, commemorating students, teachers, parents, and members of the Order of the Phoenix who had died during the battle. She recognized so many of the names: Hestia Jones, Lavender Brown, Lisa Turpin, Gregory Goyle, Professor Flitwick, Rubeus Hagrid. Professor McGonagall read all the names, each one pressing its little spirit hand against Ginny's heart, a memory hand print. She tried to remember them all, never to forget what they'd given up so Hogwarts – the world – could be safe again. The ice around her heart had thawed enough that when Percy's name was read, she choked on a sob. Draco, sitting on her right, pulled her head down onto his shoulder.

At the end of the service, they went together to the graves and conjured flowers to lay on them. They weren't the only ones – the headstones were buried in summer flowers. The soft scent sat on the breeze for days. Pansy and Hermione conjured a special rose for Snape's grave, something they said they'd created themselves. It was a brilliant blue lily. They showed Harry and he gave a choked laugh, told them they were geniuses, and held onto both of them.

Percy's funeral, held several days after the memorial service at Hogwarts, haunted Ginny for weeks. She felt Percy's absence like a physical thing, especially with her family there. Harry and Hermione came with Ron. Ginny was grateful to them – she knew it hurt them to see her mum in such a state and her father's hollow eyes. She thought about how much worse it was that Percy had estranged himself from the family for so long. So much time was lost. Ginny hurt in ways she had never hurt before and gave constant thanks, in spite of herself, that she had lost only one brother that day.

They buried him in the orchard behind the Burrow. He had loved it there and his headstone, raised and designed by Fred and George, looked peaceful under the dappled sunlight of the apple trees.

"This way, he'll always be with us," Mr. Weasley said as he and Ginny put flowers on his grave that evening. "He'll get to be a part of the family, even though we're separated now." Ginny put an arm around him and finally had a proper cry for her lost brother.

**)BW(**

Ginny was as amazed as anyone when most of the student body chose to stay or return to the castle for summer classes. Some were so adamant about staying that their parents were forced to come back to Hogwarts to see them. McGonagall turned it into a week-long event for families, filling the inns around Hogsmeade with students' visiting relatives and fitting as many as possible into the castle itself. Since Ron refused to leave Harry and Hermione, and Ginny refused to leave the team or Draco, their parents returned to Hogwarts with them, wanting to keep the family together as long as they could. Even Bill and Charlie got time off. The Weasley clan stayed in the spacious apartment over Fred and George's new Hogsmeade joke shop, coming to visit the school every day to help rebuild.

Ginny was relieved to return to school and her friends. The hole Percy had left in their family was much less noticeable when the family was spread out. Ginny devoutly hoped that she wouldn't always feel that way. The war had brought home how precious and irreplaceable every one of her brothers were, not to mention her mum and dad.

The Weasleys stayed for two weeks, before feeling secure enough in the safety of Ron and Ginny to head south again.

"Just promise you'll come home the moment the N.E.W.T.s are over," Mrs. Weasley begged Ron and Ginny.

"We will, Mum," Ron promised.

Students who had been living in the Room of Requirement were reluctant to move back to their houses. They'd had almost no personal space and the room had become a bit disgusting from the many teens living in it for months. That didn't stop Daniel Jones, his friend Juliette, Seamus, Dean, Justin, Neville, and Luna from petitioning to keep the room open for those who wanted to stay there. Professor McGonagall told them they had to close the room and return to their houses, but overlooked the inter-house mingling that went on constantly. Students from all four houses appeared in other houses; visiting friends, having slumber parties, doing homework.

"I wonder if they'd consider getting rid of the houses," Ginny said one evening. She sat with Ananda's head in her lap and the rest of the team around them, crowded onto the hearth rug in Gryffindor (the best hearth rug of the four common rooms, everyone agreed).

"They're barely accepting our team," Ananda pointed out, nodding at the Gryffindors who were giving them space. Not, Ginny thought, in an unkind way, though. "Don't push people too fast."

"You're one to talk," Pansy said, nudging her. "You're a bloody hero – you had everyone fooled."

Ananda smiled.

In the beginning, it hadn't been easy for Ananda. The Order of the Phoenix and the Ministry of Magic were after her to know why several Death Eaters, during interrogations, had implicated her in Dumbledore's death. Of the three conspirators who had planned it, she was the only one left alive. It had taken some convincing before anyone believed her story. In the end, papers were found in Dumbledore's office, locked away with his will, that confirmed Ananda's story and cleared her of all blame. The same papers confirmed that Harry'd had nothing to do with Dumbledore's death, either, though most people had stopped believing the _Daily Prophet's_ inflammatory rumors.

Ananda looked so happy these days, Ginny thought. The dark circles under her eyes had faded and she seemed to glow whenever she was with anyone from the team – always content as long as she was with her friends. The only time she looked sober was when she took her daily walk, alone, to Snape's tombstone, to lay one of Pansy and Hermione's bright blue lilies.

Susie sat with Hermione and Hannah, curled in one of Hermione's quilts and leaning back against a sofa. She still didn't talk much but slowly, over a few weeks, she told the rest of the team about her injury. As Hermione had predicted, no one bothered her about it or showed her any pity. They hugged her and didn't cry (if they were going to) until they were away from her. She spent most of her time with Hannah and Hermione (who had saved her life) and Draco (who, for some reason, she felt comfortable with). The rest of the team helped her whenever she let them, which wasn't often.

"The nightmares are the worst," she had told Ginny while she was still confined to hospital. "When I close my eyes, I see teeth and … a man …"

Ginny stayed with her until she went to sleep every night until she was released from hospital. It helped, she thought. She just didn't know if it was enough.

A month after the battle, the house Quidditch teams began clambering for practice. Terry Boot, Ernie MacMillan, Harry Potter, Gus Godkin (who, in spite of all his ominous talk, had never actually had anything to do with Death Eaters or Voldemort, according to Ananda), and Draco Malfoy camped out outside McGonagall's office until she finally gave in, shouted at them in tones that rang through Hogwarts' halls, and schedule team practices. No matches, but the teams had gone so long without Quidditch that they didn't argue.

"It's bloody brilliant, being back on a broom," Harry told Ginny one afternoon when they walked to the pitch for her team's practice. "Mind you, Ron and Mione and I did get to try out a dragon on our mission but – "

"A _dragon_?" Ginny demanded.

"Never again," Harry said fervently. "We had to jump off over this lake and – no, you couldn't pay me enough."

"Someday, the three of you are going to have to tell the story properly," Ginny said sternly. "At least to the DA. You owe us."

"We do," Harry agreed. "I don't know how we'd have finished our mission without you lot. We couldn't believe how many people turned out this time. And you got the Slytherins in! Like, all of them."

"It was amazing," Ginny agreed. "I don't know how all of us didn't kill each other, honestly! We were in that bloody room for months."

"You didn't want to leave the bloody room when McGonagall asked you," Harry pointed out.

"Well," Ginny said, smiling. "We got used to it. Like a giant camp-out for a few months."

Harry shuddered. "No camping, I beg you."

"Can I ask you one thing?" Ginny asked after a moment's silence. "Please? It's been driving me crazy!"

"What?"

"How did I not die when Voldemort tried the killing curse on me? Or Nev. Or _Draco_."

Harry cleared his throat. "I'll tell you – another time."

"Harry, you're the only one who's ever repelled the killing curse," Ginny persisted.

"That's still true," he said slowly. "You didn't repel it – exactly."

Ginny opened her mouth, saw his face, and closed it again. More mysteries that would have to wait until later.

They arrived at the lockers to find Pansy waiting, hands on her hips. "Take your time, Weasley," she said, rolling her eyes. "We're waiting."

"Don't start, Parkinson, I know what you're really doing out here," Ginny said with a look at Harry. She ducked away before Pansy could punch her in the arm and went into the lockers.

The practices were always the same, though that didn't for a moment make Ginny enjoy them less. Everyone was there twenty minutes early, doddling around and pretending to polish brooms, study strategy, or stretch out. Draco usually held out until ten minutes before when he'd come round, bullying them into readiness and moaning on about, "How hopelessly fleshly and limp" they'd all become. A few sucker punches from Millicent and Natalie put a speedy end to this insult and Draco turned his attention to their posture and form.

"He loves it," Susie murmured to Ginny, from where she sat on a bench by Ginny's locker. "Anything to get you lot riled up."

"Anything," Ginny agreed. "Last practice he told me I'd have to use my hair to blind oncoming Chasers because I was as crap as ever at catching."

Susie chuckled, a low hoarse sound. She hadn't started laughing again until Hermione and Hannah had coaxed her back to the pitch. At first, she'd sat in the stands looking so miserable that Ginny wanted to scoop her up and carry her away. Ginny thought about watching others fly and knowing she never could again and ... she couldn't bear it. She thought about saying something to Draco, but then Blaise appeared in the stands and begun speaking softly to Susie. They left the pitch together, talking in low voices. Ginny looked to Hermione and saw her friend smiling a triumphant smile. She caught Ginny 's eye and gave her a stern look.

"I think you're up to something, Granger," Ginny called, pitching a Quaffle passed her into a goal Hermione was supposed to be guarding.

What Hermione'd been up to was talking Blaise into getting Susie back on a broom. Apparently, he hadn't needed any convincing, but as he told Hermione, he'd never helped someone with one arm relearn to fly before.

"He was terrified he was going to get her killed," Hermione told Ginny later. "Of course, she's an excellent flier and it was just a matter of learning to balance and steer with one arm."

Susie would never play Quidditch again, Ginny thought with aching sadness. But she hadn't lost hope. Hadn't stopped flying. And certainly hadn't quit the team.

By midsummer, she was captaining again. When Jools proposed that Susie return as captain, Susie argued that captains played on the team.

"Captains also inspire people," Jools insisted. "No one inspires me more than you, Suse."

The rest of the team agreed wholeheartedly and every practice Susie seemed a little less unhappy. She got good enough on a broom, with Blaise's help, to fly laps and referee the team's daily matches. Ginny had never seen someone without an arm fly before. It was fascinating to watch her compensate with her legs and abs. Ginny had to make a conscious effort not to stare, for fear of hurting her friend's feelings.

As N.E.W.T.s and (late) graduation drew near, whispers began in the lockers. Ginny knew what they were all worried about, the anxiety no one would put a name to.

"I wish someone would just say it," Pansy grumbled into her locker.

"Say what?" Hermione asked, wrapping her wet hair in a towel.

"What we're all thinking," Ginny said. "What's going to happen to the team when you lot leave in a few weeks?"

"You'll keep on without us," Hermione said, chewing her lower lip.

"Like hell," Adrienne said in passing. "Without you two," nodding to Hermione and Pansy, "we're toast. You were the best thing we had going for us."

"She's right," Ginny said, tying up her trainers. "You two gone, both captains gone …"

"The coach gone," Adrienne added. They all glanced at Draco, who was bent over several pieces of parchment with Susie and Jools. The three of them had been hiding out from the rest for the last few weeks. Ginny didn't know why they bothered – all the strategy in the world wouldn't save the team after the seventh years left.

"Do you reckon they're up to something?" Hermione asked, her head on one side. She finished buttoning her oxford just as Blaise came into the lockers. He looked supremely disappointed to have missed Hermione in her knickers and Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Blaise," Hermione said. "Is the coach up to something?"

"He's always up to _something_," Blaise pointed out, kissing her nose.

"Yes, but has he told you what this time?" Hermione persisted.

"What makes you think Draco tells me anything?" Blaise asked, pulling the towel from Hermione's hair. "Anyway," he added with a pointed look at Ginny. "I'm not the one's got him wrapped around my finger, am I?"

"Shut up, Zabini," Ginny muttered.

She and Draco kept their relationship off the pitch and out of the lockers, but everyone knew about it anyway. Ginny supposed if there were any chance of the girls' team competing in the inter-house again, the relationship would have been impossible or one of them would have had to quit the team. Since all the team did anymore was practice, however, nobody said a word. Ginny wondered if they were all worried about another upset like the one Ananda had managed while disguised as Jools. Maybe they were all just happy to be a team again, closer to each other than they had ever been before, with no sign of rifts or drama.

"You should ask him, Weasley," Pansy said, nudging passed Blaise and heading for the locker doors. "We're all so depressed that we're going to waste our last three weeks sulking and not get a thing done."

Ginny scowled after her, punched a smirking Blaise in the shoulder, and went to corner Draco before he could escape the lockers with Jools and Susie.

"If we were doing anything for you to be worried about, I'd tell you," he said as they walked back to the castle together.

"Like hell you would, _coach_," she grumbled. "Now I know you're up to something."

"Yes," he retorted. "Strategy to cover the fact that you've lost all ability to catch the bloody Quaffle."

"Not like it matters if I can catch, since half the team is leaving," Ginny muttered. She threw him a look. "Including you." He wove his fingers through hers and didn't say anything. "You planning on telling me what you're doing after you graduate?"

He gave her a look. "Nosy Weasley."

She stuck her foot out and he swore as he stumbled.

"Clever and cheeky," she corrected. "Never insult my nose."

As the N.E.W.T.s passed and the final week before graduation approached, Ginny became positive Draco was hiding things from her. Not only her, but the rest of the team.

"It's not just Malfoy," Hermione said one morning over breakfast. She glowered across the Great Hall. At the moment, Draco was sitting at the Ravenclaw table with Jools and Susie. Blaise sat nearby. He met Hermione's eye and winked. She stuck her nose in the air and returned to the _Daily Prophet_ on the table in front of her.

"Apparently, Draco let Zabini in on whatever it is," Ginny grumbled. "Forget them, anyway. You have decisions to make, Mione."

"We all do," Hermione said, nodding down the table. Ron, Harry, Dean, and Seamus were muttering and exchanging bits of parchment. "We've all been accepted into winter term at different universities. Some people are talking about taking the Grand Tour and now it looks like a bunch of the DA are going together." She sighed. "Harry and I think we'll probably not, though, until Ron can aff – I mean, until he's ready to go."

Ginny bit her lip. "He'd understand, if you lot wanted to go," she murmured.

"Harry's trying to think if we can give Ron the Grand Tour as a graduation present without offending him," Hermione said. She glanced at Ginny. "Somehow, we think it won't take."

"Probably not," Ginny agreed.

"We can wait," Hermione said. "Honestly, when I think about it, I'd rather. I spent a year not at home, living on the road – on the moors, actually. I think it might do me good to try university first."

"Where, do you think?" Ginny asked.

"Well …" Hermione frowned. "I've only heard back from five universities so far."

"Just the five?" Ginny asked, rolling her eyes.

Three days later, an overstuffed envelope arrived for Hermione. At the same moment the tawny owl dropped the envelope into Hermione's porridge, a barn owl dropped one on Pansy's head and a screech dropped another into a judge of pumpkin juice in front of Jools. The cursing could be heard by everyone in the hall.

"What's that?" Ron asked, peering at Hermione's envelope.

Hermione snatched it up, her eyes wide. "That's not possible," she kept saying. "I didn't apply …"

A moment later she had pulled a sheet of parchment out. Suddenly, she let out a shriek and went tearing across the hall to the Slytherin table. Pansy was on her feet already and the two of them began talking in agitated voices. Then they rounded on Draco and dragged him bodily from the Great Hall.

The entire hall had gone silent in amazement. Ginny glanced at Jools again. The captain set her envelope aside and grinned into her breakfast as though she knew something.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" Ron wondered.

"Malfoy's finally driven Hermione and Pansy around the bend?" Harry said, shrugging and going back to his bacon. He would know, Ginny supposed. He seemed to spend every possible moment with Pansy these days.

"Come on, Gin." Natalie and Parvati were already on their feet, heading for the entrance hall. The rest of the team joined them in short order, but there was no sign of Draco, Pansy, or Hermione.

"Where did they go?" Ananda said, staring around.

"Did you lot see what Parkinson's envelope said?" Parvati asked her. "I was too far away to see Hermione's."

"It had a university stamp on it," Millicent said, shrugging. "I couldn't see which one."

They found out later that afternoon, when an emergency meeting was called in the locker rooms.

"Finally get to know what you've been up to, _coach_?" Ginny grouched at Draco in passing.

"You're so suspicious," he murmured back with a smirk.

"Well?" Ginny asked, throwing herself onto a bench by Hermione.

Her friend glanced at her, expression closed. Blaise sat on Hermione's other side, fingers laced with hers, grinning like a fool. He winked at Ginny.

"What?" Ginny demanded, but at that moment Draco stood up. For once, the chatter in the lockers stopped immediately.

"I'm sure all of you are wondering," he began without preamble, "what's going to happen to the team next year. Half the team is graduating and going away. And your humble coach," he added with a mock solute. The girls were too tense to laugh. "So what do we do?"

They waited. All of them, Ginny knew, were praying that he planned to answer his own question.

"I'll tell you what we're going to do," he said, the old Quidditch fire in his eyes. "We've worked too damned hard – _you've _worked too damned hard – to let this crazy, impossible team fall apart. We survived a war, for Merlin's sake!"

They all nodded, leaning forward and tense with anticipation.

"So here's what we're going to do," Draco said, looking them in the eye. "We're going to turn pro."

**)BW(**

_**TBC (epilogue forthcoming)**_


	22. The Newbridge Nundus

**Author's Note**: I absolutely can't believe this journey is over. I say that with relief and a profound sense of sadness. This is probably my last novel-length foray into fan fiction. I knew that it would be by the time I was halfway through. When I started, I was seventeen. Now I'm twenty-four. My life has changed so much. So has my writing. It's time to move beyond novel-length fan fiction and began novel length _novels_. In November 2009, I finished my first novel-length original work of fiction. Now I'm working on two original novels and a novella, which I hope to publish one day.

I'll continue to write one-shots because I can't help myself. But now my writing energy will be primarily focused on original fiction.

A HUGE thanks to **A. Nutter**, a fantastic long-time reviewer, who suggested I post the final chapter on the anniversary of first uploading the story. It was a brilliant suggestion and I'm so glad she pointed out the opportunity to me. It's like coming full circle and feels perfect.

Another HUGE thanks to **Twilight**, who didn't have to read any of this "rubbish" but has stuck with it and flattered me endlessly with her eagerness for each new chapter. It's wonderful to write for reviewers who are so good to me – it's _incredible_ to write for a reviewer who I can talk to face-to-face ^_^

A final but no less HUGE thanks also to all my loyal readers and reviewers, many of whom have been with me from the beginning and have grown up as the fic has unfolded over the last seven years. Without you guys, I'd never have been able to finish this fic.

Thanks! It's been a fantastic journey!

J.T. of Gryffindor

**Disclaimer:** "Bend It" belongs to not me, and HP is J.K.R.'s. Sincerest thanks to the Goddess of pro-fic . . .

**)BW(**

_**Present**_

"Damn it, I can't find my gloves!"

Ginny tore through their bedroom like a whirlwind, throwing things everywhere and leaving a trail of destruction in her wake.

"Weasley, stop that." Draco followed, holding her gloves in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. Ginny didn't notice because she was too busy emptying the contents of their wardrobe onto the floor. Draco's dress robes and Ginny's practice gear lay in a crumpled heap under Ginny's feet.

"You can't keep calling me Weasley." She crawled back out of the wardrobe and glared up at him. She paused when she noticed the gloves in his hand. He raised his eyebrows and held them out. She snatched them and her lip twitched. "Weren't you there when we got married?"

"I was," he said, absently wiggling his ring finger. "I remember because I've never had six grown men try to kill me in a single day before."

"Seven, counting Harry." Ginny did smile then, accepting the cup of tea.

"Anyway, you _are_ still a Weasley," he pointed out. "And your mum's still furious you didn't change your name."

"Yeah, yeah," Ginny said. "But Weasley's the name everyone knows." She smirked, taking a sip of tea. "It's on my kit, my locker, and my official registry with England's Quidditch League. Be a pain in the arse to change."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You're going to be late for practice, oh magnificent Quidditch starlet."

Ginny guzzled her tea, planted a kiss just under his ear, handed the teacup back, and bolted for the door.

"You'll be on time to the party tonight?" she called. "The girls are dying to see you." He could hear her hopping around the entryway, trying to pull her boots on.

"If I'm not in meetings or anything," he called back, starting to tidy up their bedroom. "Blaise and I have some rubbish to settle for next season."

"You'll be there or – or I'll send Nat and Patrice to drag you," Ginny said, reappearing in the doorway and kissing him properly. "Bye, _coach_."

She was gone in a moment, the front door slamming behind her. He heard the faint _pop_ as she Disapparated. He smiled, shook his head, and got to work on the Chaser-torn wardrobe.

He often felt like a housewife. Officially, Ginny was the family breadwinner and he was the homebody. Mrs. Weasley said he made a mean soufflé. Ron Weasley said he made a mean catch in a kitchen apron. Draco still hated Ron.

He gave his wand a flick. His dress robes smoothed themselves and floated back into the wardrobe. Ginny's wedding robes settled beside them, still smelling of the June lilies she'd worn in her hair that day. He ran a hand over the soft material, irrationally wishing he could think of some reason for her to wear them again. Ridiculous, of course. He smirked at himself. A housewife and _soft_, to boot.

He wandered into the kitchen, dumping Ginny's teacup in the sink and picking up his half-empty coffee cup. He was just thinking about a trip to Diagon Alley for Ginny's new gloves and guards, important things she hadn't replaced since the beginning of the season, when the Floo went in the sitting room.

"If it isn't everyone's favorite Galleonaire," Blaise said, grinning at him from the cinders and taking a sip from his own coffee cup. "Where's the apron?"

"You're supposed to be my best mate," Draco pointed out, pulling up a chair and seating himself by the hearth. "Why is it you're almost as hard to cope with as Ron Weasley these days?"

"You need a bit of stirring up," Blaise told him. Like he'd know. "And we're supposed to be in a business meeting."

"It's just the two of us. We're mates. We don't arrange business meetings," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "We just say, 'Fancy a bite at the Leaky Cauldron? Oh, and we should probably talk about that team we started when we were young and stupid.'"

"Hermione thinks we should be more organized about the Nundus, or look like we are, anyway." Blaise set his coffee cup aside.

"Oh, I'm sure _Hermione_ does," Draco said, rolling his eyes skyward. "_Hermione_ should be worrying about her throwing arm, not bossing people about."

"She scored two goals their last match," Blaise said defensively. "And she's been loads better in practice lately."

"Now the season's over." Draco wasn't actually worried but he dearly loved the look on Blaise's face when anyone besmirched the skills of his wife.

"You're such a riot, Malfoy." Blaise glared at him a moment. Draco raised his eyebrows and his friend's expression relaxed into a grin. "I talked to Jess earlier this week."

"N.E.W.T.s finished yet?" Draco asked. "How was the end of the season?"

"About how you'd expect, given Slytherin's lineup," Blaise said with a shrug.

"So that would be a _dreadful_ then?"

"In one. _And_ her mum's on her about uni now N.E.W.T.s are over. Doesn't think professional Quidditch is a resume-booster, marriage-wise."

"What does Jess say about it?"

"That her mum can sod off; she's never giving up Quidditch again," Blaise said, grinning. "Obviously."

Roughly what Ananda had said to her mum a few years back when they'd first started the pro team. Draco would never forget the evening Aunt Mila turned up at his flat with a wand and a machete left her by her late husband. Fortunately, Ginny had been in the sitting room because Aunt Mila had taken Draco completely by surprise. Ginny had been forced to tackle Aunt Mila into the hall where Ananda, who Apparated in seconds later, had to stun her.

"Sorry, I didn't think she'd go _completely mental_ when I showed her my contract with the Nundus," Ananda panted, slumping over her mum. "I had this funny idea she'd be proud of me."

Draco had glanced around as doors opened up and down the hall and his neighbors peered suspiciously out. "Escaped Death Eater," he lied quickly, and all the doors slammed shut immediately.

No one in the building would forget that visit either.

"Jess would have to be committed to the Nundus after captaining Slytherin this year," Draco said to Blaise. "They've never seen such a dreadful team. I don't know how she limped them through the season."

"Good practice for her, though," Blaise pointed out. "She saw some good matches as Seeker." He grinned. "I got to see two of them, remember."

"So what are we supposed to be meeting about?" Draco wanted to know, wishing he'd seen those matches, too. Blaise had thought up the excuse to turn up at Hogwarts' Quidditch matches as a "scout" and so he'd gone on several holidays to the school while Draco dealt with the mid-season madness of a Quidditch team owner.

"The usual," Blaise said. "Sorting sponsorship for next season with a side of fire whiskey. Oh, and we're meant to be at the end of season/welcome to Jess party at eight o'clock, sharp. Hermione was very clear about that."

"Watch me not show up exactly on time," Draco grumbled. "Gin would flay me and feed me to the team."

Blaise winced. "That was completely unnecessary. I'll see you in ten."

"Make it fifteen," Draco corrected. "The lady of the house needs new guards and some other stuff from Quality Quidditch. I have to stop there first."

"See you, mate."

Blaise rang off and Draco stood and stretched. A few waves of his wand set the living room straight. He thought he'd leave the dishes for Ginny, since washing up was one of the few chores she liked (the why of it would remain a constant mystery to Draco).

_I really am becoming a housewife_, he thought, trying to decide if he minded or not. He thought being married to a professional Quidditch player made it worth the tidying up after her.

He did contribute financially. He had two family fortunes he'd brought to the marriage. The Malfoy fortune had all gone into the team, turning every Malfoy ancestor in his grave and funding a season and a half before the Newbridge Nundus had enough companies' sponsorship to cover all the costs. The Black fortune had been split by Draco and his mother. Draco and Ginny talked daily about building a proper house in the country with their half of the inheritance.

Draco left the flat, Apparating into the alley next to the Leaky Cauldron from just outside the flat door. He stepped into the pub to find it relatively quiet. He nodded hello to old Tom, who seemed to get more bald and toothless every time Draco saw him. He passed through the brick archway, stepping into the always-busy streets of Diagon Alley. Lot of people were shopping today, preparing for summer. He found Quality Quidditch Supplies crowded with post-season bargain hunters. He recognized a few assistant coaches from other pro teams, as well as a smattering of parents and Quidditch enthusiasts.

He groaned to himself when he noticed Harry Potter comparing broom polishes with the assistant coach of Puddlemere United. He thought about trying to creep away but just as the thought crossed his mind, Potter looked up.

"Oh, hi, Malfoy," he said, sounding as enthusiastic to see Draco as Draco was to see him.

"Potter," he said. He thought about leaving it at that, but unfortunately the gloves were right next to the broom polish.

"All right?" Potter said a bit awkwardly. It wasn't like they never talked, what with Draco being married to Ginny, Blaise being married to Hermione, and Pansy being practically married to Potter. It was just that they were never going to be friends and they'd both accepted that.

"All right," Draco said, moving warily toward him. He reached the gloves and turned his attention to them. "You?"

"All right," Potter said noncommittally. He hesitated, then asked, "What do you reckon? Nimbus's Diamond Hard Broom Polish or Clean Sweep's?"

Draco glanced up from a pair of dragon hide gloves, surprised.

"Well," he said slowly. "I've heard Clean Sweep's is best because it doesn't wear the finish off the brooms. Nimbus's stuff is so strong it wears the finish down and then the handle starts to splinter."

"That's a good point," Puddlemere's assistant coach put in. "Nimbus is an excellent make of broom, but their accessories aren't always so good."

"Huh." Potter studied the labels. He noticed Draco watching him and shrugged. "I have to buy a new broom next season. I had to limp my Firebolt through a couple matches last season and now it looks like something I made myself out of a kitchen broom."

Draco snorted. "Half my girls need new ones, too. Especially Johnson. God, I thought that last match would be the end of her." He returned to the glove debate, aware that Blaise was probably waiting for him.

"Those are a bit small for you, aren't they?" Potter asked, and when Draco glanced at him, his lip was twitching. Adult Draco, the one whose feud with Potter was a thing of the past, knew he didn't mean anything by it. It wasn't Potter's fault Draco's wrists were so bad he couldn't fly for more than a half-hour at a time now. And it wasn't Potter's fault that every Quidditch team in England had wanted to sign the Chosen One right out of Hogwarts.

No, it wasn't Potter's fault he got everything he wanted.

"They're for Gin," Draco said shortly.

"I – I didn't mean ..." Potter began, which made the whole thing worse.

"Forget it," Draco said quickly. He frowned at the glove. "She always wants the canvas ones because they're lighter, but she wears through the damned things after one match and then forgets to replace them and destroys her hands." He glanced at Potter with a crooked smile. "Remember last Christmas when she turned up at the Burrow with two broken fingers and no wedding ring because she dropped it somewhere over the pitch?"

Potter smiled hesitantly back, looking relieved. "Mrs. Weasley took one look at her and started on about how Ginny would never live to give her grandchildren. No one will ever forget that fight."

That fight being one of many in which Ginny and Mrs. Weasley screamed the Burrow down about women playing Quidditch. No one in the Western Hemisphere would forget it, either.

"She'd be fine if she could be arsed about equipment," Draco muttered. "She's not the only one, either. I had to trick the entire team into new brooms this coming season because they're all so bloody attached to those old Firebolts from Hogwarts." A few hours after the Nundu's final match of the season, Blaise had snuck into the lockers and smuggled out the old Firebolts, replacing them with practice brooms they could use until new models were ordered. When Pansy and Hermione had discovered the Firebolts missing, it hadn't been pretty. Draco was pretty sure Blaise had slept on the couch for a week.

"I know how they feel," Potter murmured. He saw the assistant coach's put-upon look and rolled his eyes. "And I know it's stupid and dangerous to fly on an outdated broom."

"Not an easy job, is it?" Draco said to the assistant coach.

"They're threatening to promote me to head coach when Dmitri retires next year," the assistant said gloomily.

"I'm very sorry for you," Draco said with feeling.

"Oh, go on," Potter muttered grouchily. "We're not that bad."

"Spare me," Draco said with a stern look. "I'm married to the most stubborn Quidditch player in England."

"You mean, apart from Hermione and Pansy?" Potter countered. "And Parvati. And Natalie."

"Mrs. Zabini notwithstanding," Draco conceded. "Anyway, the other three aren't married."

"Not yet," Potter murmured, eyes fixed on the tins of polish he still held as if he wasn't really seeing them. Draco stared at him for a moment. Then he sighed.

"Do you have to?" he asked a bit hopelessly.

Potter glared at him and, in typical Potter fashion, went red.

"I'm never going to get away from you, am I?" Draco grumbled. "Fifty years from now, we're going to be sitting in old rockers on the Burrow lawn reminiscing about the good old days as thought we _had_ good old days."

"It's very likely," Potter agreed, sighing as well. "Well," he amended with annoying optimism. "Maybe we won't be reminiscing so much as poking each other with our walking sticks and stealing each other's false teeth."

Draco nodded, grinning a little. "All right, I can cope with that."

The shop door opened again. "If you're quite through fraternizing with the enemy," Blaise said, glaring at the pair of them. "I've been sitting in the bleeding pub for ten minutes."

"Oh, I do beg your pardon, your bloody highness," Draco said, returning to the gloves. "I'm just getting some stuff for Gin, I told you."

"No, you're standing around with _the enemy_," Blaise stressed. "Talking about growing old together," he added with a smirk.

"Nice, Zabini," Potter said. "Come on," he said to the assistant coach. "You're supposed to be helping me choose a new broom."

"What a thrilling life I lead," the assistant coach said, taking the broom polish from Potter.

"Well," Potter said, glancing at Draco. "See you around." He groaned, slapping a hand to his forehead. "Probably at the party tonight."

"Don't you have your own do for Puddlemere?" Blaise asked.

"I'm meant to go to both," Potter said gloomily. "It's the end of the season. What I want is to lie in bed for a week and never move again." He caught Draco's look and rolled his eyes. "You really think Pansy would let me do that?"

Blaise laughed. "Only if you were willing to sleep on the couch for a month," he said, shaking his head. "You don't mind, really, do you? About the party, I mean. You know it means a lot to her."

"No, not really," Potter admitted. "See you tonight."

"I expect so," Draco said darkly. He couldn't stop Pansy bringing Potter everywhere with her, after all. Nor, apparently, could Potter.

Potter wandered off after the assistant coach, stopping to sign a little boy's Quidditch jersey and shake hands with his enthusiastic father.

"How long does it take to choose a pair of gloves?" Blaise demanded. "Honestly, Draco."

"You sounded just like my wife when you said that," Draco told him. "Canvas or dragon hide?"

"She'll shred the canvas ones and you know it," Blaise, who had experience with scarily stubborn Quidditch-playing wives, said. "Anyway, if she'd just wear the dragon hide, she'd break them in and the grip would be just as good."

Draco agreed with this – it was getting her to wear them that was the trouble. He found a pair of forearm guards, shin guards, and a new practice helmet, all things Ginny had failed to replace that season. Blaise followed in his wake, grumbling about having the slowest best mate in the world and pulling totally pointless trinkets off the shelf for Hermionebecause he knew they would make her ludicrously happy.

They paid for their things and went back to the pub, which was a bit more crowded than when Draco had passed through earlier.

"So tell me what we're meeting about again?" Draco demanded as they perched themselves at the bar.

"Just some legal stuff from our sponsors," Blaise assured him. "Nothing we can't handle in ten minutes."

"And we needed a meeting for this?" Draco asked.

"I told you, Hermione's been at me to be a more professional team owner," Blaise said, shrugging. "Stop complaining and get a pint. It's not like you had plans today anyway, with Ginny at practice and all."

Draco wasn't about to admit this was true so he ordered red wine (just to annoy Blaise, who thought drinking wine in pubs was pretentious) and began looking through the papers Blaise slid him across the counter. He was right – it was easy stuff. All their sponsors wanted to renew next season (thank Merlin – getting them to sign in the first place had been nothing short of a nightmare) and they even had bids for two additional sponsors (though what baby food had to do with Quidditch was anyone's guess).

They finished the paperwork in fifteen minutes and their second drinks as well. Normally, the two of them were much busier, but with the season over, all they had to worry about was the girls training properly for next season and getting to all their press junkets on time. Draco missed coaching them, though he knew Susie and Jools did a fine job, aided by a couple of well-trained assistants. Anyway, if Draco had been coaching, he couldn't have been married to Ginny. Not even Quidditch was worth that trade-off. By owning the team, he was totally removed from choices regarding who was on the team. His job, and Blaise's, was the see to it that the funding, matches, and gear were all in order, as well as public relations. Jools and Susie were now officially in charge of all decisions regarding the who, when, and how of the team.

Draco had always known deep down that when he and Blaise finally launched the professional team, they would really be giving the team back to the girls. Sure, Draco had been their coach and had helped them become the professional Quidditch stars they were, but the team had always been _theirs_. All that was left for him (and Blaise) was to make sure the girls had the support they needed.

Owning the team _was_ a full-time job. Draco was deeply grateful that Blaise was in the same position he was, with a wife on the team. Blaise would have made a fine coach to replace Draco, had he not been married to the team's star Chaser (catch Draco calling Mrs. Zabini a star to her face!). Draco liked the company and the feeling that he and Blaise were a little team of their own.

They finished their drinks, sent two owls each, and left the pub.

"See you at the do tonight. Oh, and I got us all sorted for later, with the stuff in the room at the place," Blaise added cryptically as they parted ways in the alley beside the Leaky Cauldron.

"Naturally," Draco said. "And," he added, grinning. "Tell your wife to stop being so bloody nosy."

**)BW(**

_**A few years earlier**_

"I just think you'll be more believable as professional Quidditch team owners if you go about it properly," Hermione stressed, tapping her fingers on the tabletop and staring sternly at Blaise. The small cafe in Hogsmeade could barely contain the former Gryffindor's insistence.

Blaise smiled at her with a look that made even Ginny roll her eyes (pray Merlin they got married soon), and said, "We'll look into it when the time comes, love. We've got a few years yet. Anyway, don't worry about us. How were your midterms?"

"How were her midterms," Pansy scoffed, stuffing a forkful of grilled tomato into her mouth. Harry thoughtfully offered her a napkin, which she waved away. "Who are you talking to, Zabini? She wiped the floor with the rest of us."

"Grr," Jools added, tearing into her toast and marmalade as she stared out the window into the winter sunlight blanketing the village. "I'm supposed to be the Ravenclaw."

"You were busy," Hermione said immediately. "Jools, you're on the uni team _and_ you're interning with the head coach." She grinned, nudging the Beater. "And people made fun of me for taking a few extra classes third year."

Jools ducked her head at the roundabout compliment.

"Anyway, who cares if Granger got a hundred and ten percent on all our classes," Pansy said, rolling her eyes and not quite hiding a smile. "We're all through, we're eating our first proper breakfast in weeks, we're not going to get kicked off the team for bad marks – "

"You don't know that!" Hermione squeaked, panic written all over her face. "Suppose we fail? And we get kicked off the team and our scholarships get revoked and we get thrown out of uni and we're forced to work as waitresses for the rest of our lives and the coach can't make a go of it without us so he doesn't back the pro team after all and we all wind up forty and alone, pan-handling on the streets of London!"

"Hermione," Harry said, grinning down the table at her and ignoring the double-takes of the cafe patrons around them at the sound of his voice. The war had only ended seven months ago, after all. He was still the Chosen One. "You say something like that every time you sit an exam and we all know you're going to get a hundred percent."

"Don't say that!" Hermione bellowed across the table. Several people at nearby tables switched their stares to her.

"I've heard the first year of uni is the hardest," Blaise said, popping a sausage into his mouth and rubbing his thumb soothingly over Hermione's knuckles with his free hand. "It's been an experience for me, I can tell you." As far as Ginny knew, Blaise was balancing three Quidditch-related internships and a full course load. He looked awfully cheerful, all things considered.

"Try doing all that by correspondence," Draco grumbled. He lived at Hogwarts full-time, both as assistant to Madam Hooch and as coach of the girls' team, which continued to thrive under his direction. He was also a part-time university student. "Between coaching the ruddy team and writing essays about bollocks nobody cares about …"

"You love it, really," said Ginny, who saw on a daily basis how happy he was.

"I don't," Draco said reflexively.

"He does," Ginny told the table at large. "He's been making color-coded charts. And not just for uni."

"I haven't!" Draco howled, and the wandering eyes of the café-goers around them turned on him.

"Anyway, I heard the last match was brilliant," Jools said, enjoying Draco's strop as much as Ginny. She caught Draco's eye. "Gin told me you lot wiped the pitch with Slytherin."

"We did that, yeah," Draco said, calming down enough to smirk a little because, Ginny knew, he just couldn't help it.

"Someone needed to," Jools said philosophically. "Nat told me their lineup this year is incredible."

"Daniel Jones put together a good team," Draco agreed. "Godkin wasn't bad, but he was more interested in the team looking good and winning than in raw talent. Jones has this instinct for potential and knows how to make something of it. When I saw his lineup at the beginning of the season, I thought he was joking."

"Everyone did until they had to peel Gryffindor off the pitch that first match," Ginny pointed out. Harry scowled and Draco smirked.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry grumbled into his plate. He still took the Gryffindor team personally.

"Doesn't matter," Ginny said, nudging Draco. "_We _kicked the crap out of Slytherin. Look out for Patrice and Adrienne. They're set to take over as the star Chasers."

"They're welcome to it," Hermione said. "No, really," she added when everyone turned to look at her skeptically. "I'm barely getting by as an _average_ Chaser right now."

"We're not stars at all," Jools agreed, tucking bits of scone into her mouth. "We're the runts of the proverbial litter on the uni team."

"Well, it's your first year," Blaise pointed out. "You need some time to establish yourselves."

"Oh, sure," Pansy said, scowling. "The minute the fourth years get done pranking us ..."

"They'll get tired of it eventually," Draco said. Ginny saw his knuckles whiten around his fork. She smiled to herself. Once the coach, always the coach ...

"We need this experience," Hermione said stoutly, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "The Hogwarts team wasn't always easy but compared to professional Quidditch, it was a comfy little cake walk. Pro-Quidditch will be ten-score harder – we need all the experience we can get before we go up against professional teams." She gave Pansy a pointed look. "Including putting up with harassment. Believe me, we'll get plenty in the real world."

"You won't be up against the big teams for a while after we start up the pro team," Draco assured them, shooting a glare at Hermione across the table. Ginny noticed Jools and Pansy had gone a bit pale after her speech.

"Not Puddlemere or the Tornadoes or anything," Harry added, patting Pansy's hand. She glowered at him and he quailed under the look. Little wonder; Harry was going to start playing reserve Seeker for Puddlemere United next season and Pansy was already in a competitive mindset about it, however proud of him she might be.

"Imagine if we started against the Cannons," Ginny said. Pansy snorted, relaxing her glare at Harry.

"Don't say that!" Draco said sharply. "The Cannons are just as likely to accidentally injure each other as they are to accidentally injure the other team."

"Oh, how comforting," Jools muttered.

"Look, you lot, no one said it would be easy," Draco began, looking around at the girls.

"But it's worth it," Susie murmured. She'd been very quiet that morning. Not, Ginny thought, the same quiet that she'd exercised seven months ago when they'd all wondered if she'd beat the depression caused by the loss of her arm. This was the quiet of Susie the Planner and Innovator. Susie had an internship, alongside Jools, with the head coach at the university she, Pansy, Hermione, and Jools attended. Rumor had it she'd be interning with the head coach of the Holyhead Harpies next term, though she was tight-lipped and unreadable about it.

"It is worth it," Blaise agreed. "Things always sound scarier before you do them the first time and know what to expect."

"You're right," Jools said, sitting up a little straighter. "Go on, girls, it's our first year of uni, not the day before our first professional match."

"And you lot will have a long wait before the rest of us graduate and are ready for the team," Ginny pointed out, reaching for the salt.

"A long wait," Draco said with a smirk, handing her the salt. Ginny glared at him while Pansy sniggered into her food.

"How are Mill and Parvati doing?" Ginny asked, elbowing Draco, who yelped. "And Hannah?"

"Millie and Parvati are both still reserves," Blaise said. "I spoke to Millie this morning. Their team isn't anything up to yours," he nodded to Pansy, Hermione, and Jools, "but it doesn't matter as long as they see some proper matches and practice as often as possible."

"Parvati told me it's possible they'll both be promoted from reserves next year," Susie put in. "Both the team's Beaters and one of the other reserves are graduating."

"That's lucky," Draco murmured.

"What about Hannah?" Ginny asked.

"Starting as Keeper next term," Jools said, grinning.

"I thought their Keeper was a first year," Pansy said, frowning. "How'd Abbot manage to get it, then?"

"Spoke to her last week. She tried out against their current Keeper and apparently the coach said it was no contest."

"Do you think the Keeper will give her a hard time about that?" Ginny asked, frowning.

"Apparently," Jools said, grin widening, "the other Keeper was relieved. His dad was making him play and this gives him an excuse not to." She giggled. "He asked Hannah out to thank her for getting him out of it."

"Hope her dad doesn't try anything," Draco muttered, as the other girls grinned.

"If he does, we'll file a lawsuit," Blaise said comfortably. "We'll just say you still qualify for Dumbledore's protection under the Hogwarts' team and the clause in his will supporting the continuation of the team."

"We can all sleep easy tonight, then," Hermione said with a fond look, ruffling Blaise's hair. He turned his Hermione beam on high and Pansy mimed being sick in Harry's lap.

"Are you planning on keeping the Hogwarts team going after we turn pro, _coach_?" Ginny wanted to know as the laughter died down. She hadn't brought it up yet but she knew it was on the other girls' minds as well.

"We talked about it," Blaise said, glancing at Draco. "It's a brilliant idea but we're not sure who would take over."

"Anyway, since the war, the team hasn't been needed for inter-house unity, has it?" Hermione pointed out. "I mean, Hogwarts is a different school since the war ended. Dumbledore backed the team mostly to strengthen the bonds and understanding between the four Houses, right?"

"That's true," Ginny said slowly. "But what happens when the students who helped in the war graduate and the next generation comes in?"

"Hopefully, the graduates will pass on their tolerance to incoming students," Hermione said. She saw Ginny's expression and sighed. "I don't want the team to disappear either, Gin, but when the coach and Blaise start the pro team, who's going to take over at Hogwarts?"

"That's it exactly," Draco admitted. "I honestly can't think of anyone I'd ask to do it. I mean, people respect the team now but it's a big responsibility and most people wouldn't want to coach the team unless they could play on it." He bit his lip. "It's possible, if enough girls are interested, they could do what you lot did before you took me on. Just practice whenever they could and have fun at it. At the moment, though, the plan is for the Hogwarts team to dissolve when I leave to start the pro-team." He didn't sound as though he liked the idea any better than Ginny did.

She sighed. She loved the Hogwarts team – she would always love it. It had given her a future, friends, and a cause to fight for. She knew it would be several years after she left Hogwarts before the team lost the last of its original members, as well as its coach.

She just wished they didn't have to lose the team in the process.

**)BW(**

_**Present**_

Ginny's whole body felt like lead.

"This was supposed to be the last training of the season until summer," she complained to Pansy, whose locker was next to hers. "What are Jools and Susie playing at?"

"They just don't want us to forget they're fascist slave drivers," Pansy growled, cracking her neck and hobbling over to the showers to drop her towel and kit in the laundry. An advantage of being a professional team was not having to wash their soiled gear themselves.

"Heard that," Jools sing-songed, swiping Pansy's bum with a towel in passing. She didn't look sore or exhausted at all. In fact, she had a bit of a spring in her step.

"It's that bloody Beater from the Wimbourne Wasps," Pansy said to Ginny in an undertone, returning to their corner of the lockers as Jools disappeared into the shower, humming a nameless tune. Poor girl was nearly tone-deaf.

"We probably shouldn't tease her mercilessly," Ginny said conscientiously. "I mean, she mostly keeps her gob shut about Draco and Harry, doesn't she?"

"I'd never dream of teasing anyone," Pansy said, her lip twitching.

"Don't bother Jools," Susie said, appearing out of nowhere and giving them a stern look. "Gin, she didn't say a word when you and the coach got engaged or married, did she?"

Ginny's eyebrows shot up. "Bachelorette party?"

Susie smiled. "Yeah, but that was expected. She was your maid-of-honor, after all."

"I almost didn't make it to the wedding," Ginny pointed out over Pansy's titters. Just as well she had made it, since every single one of her brothers (including Harry) had tried to maim Draco as some point during the day. "Speaking of weddings," she added, throwing a look at Pansy.

"I deny everything. Shut up," Pansy said, disappearing into the showers. Ginny grinned a fiendish grin and went to hunt up a clean towel.

"Gin, I can't find my – "

"Bra?" Ginny guessed, tossing it to Parvati in passing. "It was in my locker. _Again_."

"Put a locator charm on it. My god, Patil," Millicent said, rolling her eyes. "Not a practice goes by you don't lose it."

"It? _Them_," Parvati stressed. "I swear they grow legs and run away."

Ananda and Adrienne sat down and had a schoolgirl giggle over the idea of Parvati's bras running around the lockers on little "leprechaun legs."

"Maybe we should get some monogrammed for her," Betina suggested, pulling her shirt over her head.

"Would it help though? Really?" Adrienne cackled. "Especially _if they have legs_."

"Oy, Ginny." Jools emerged from the showers with a towel around her hair. "The coach and Zabini turning up on time tonight?"

"Draco is, yeah," Ginny said, finally locating a clean towel. "Lots of whining, of course."

"Oh, Blaise will be there on time," Hermione said, buttoning her shirt and looking stern.

"And what about your little bundle of Quidditch lovin', Jools?" Pansy sing-songed.

"He's got a post-season party of his own," Jools said with dignity and a little blush.

"Oh, too bad," Pansy said, her lip curling into a smirk.

"I suppose Harry's going to ditch Puddlemere for our party?" Jools retorted, raising her eyebrows. Pansy stuck out her tongue at her. Ginny and Hermione laughed.

"All you lot ever talk about is boys," Parvati grumbled. "It's like we're all fifteen again."

"Wait, isn't that _my_ line?" Hermione asked with a wink.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Parvati said with a sniff.

"Right, you lot!" Susie cut in, her soft voice carrying with mysterious volume over the crowd of half-naked Quidditch players. Ginny had never worked out how she did that. "Let's get to the pub, sometime before I'm ninety."

The girls laughed and finished dressing.

"Did someone call ahead to Hogsmeade?" Ginny asked as they all trooped out of the lockers and into the balmy evening air.

"What kind of trifling captain do you take me for?" Jools demanded, nudging Ginny. "I bullied Draco into doing it weeks ago."

"Good job, too," Ginny said. "Lazy sod – pretending to have a proper job. Living off my manual labor."

Pansy and Millicent snorted, raising their eyebrows. "Shut up, that's not what I meant!" Ginny howled, wielding her practice duffel menacingly. The former Slytherins fled for protection behind Susie.

"Owning the team is as proper as it gets and you know it," the captain said, grinning as the Beater and Chaser slunk along behind her.

"I think I've almost convinced Blaise to get an office space for him and the coach," Hermione put in, brightening. "I've been working on him all year and I think he's starting to crack."

Pansy opened her mouth again but shut it quickly when Hermione turned a knowing glare on her. Millicent had a hand over her mouth.

"Why do they need an office space?" Ananda asked, watching the display with evident amusement.

"Have you seen Draco's office at home?" Ginny asked, deciding to ignore Pansy and Millicent. "Papers everywhere, books piled up, quills and ink on every surface, all their assistants turning up at odd hours. They need a work space and room for their assistants."

"And you want the office in your flat back so you have room to answer your fan mail?" Ananda said innocently. Ginny swatted her arm.

"How do we deal with fan mail?" Patrice asked. She'd only been on the team a season and was still learning the ropes.

"At the end of the first season, we were all getting so much mail we couldn't possibly answer it ourselves," Jools said. "Girls all over the world inspired by what we'd done." They all grinned at the idea. "Boys asking for dates, sending flowers and that ..." They all giggled. Ginny sometimes felt like Parvati had a point and they were all teenage girls trapped in women's bodies.

"Blaise loves that," Hermione said, her lip twitching.

"So does Harry," Pansy said, meeting her eye with a knowing look. "I reckon the ritualistic burning of all the proposals of marriage was Blaise's idea, though."

"Oh, I'm sure," Hermione returned. "Good thing we came home when we did or I expect the flat would have gone up in flames."

"Or a blaze," Natalie added, giggling. "Aren't I punny?" Millicent put an arm around her shoulders and ruffled her hair. Natalie shrieked and tried desperately to escape.

"So the coach hired several college kids to answer the fan mail and set up fan clubs for the team," Susie explained to Patrice over Natalie's pleas for help.

"Do we tell Patrice about the books based on our success, complete with cartoon drawings of us all?" Ananda mumbled to Ginny under her breath. "And this summer's book signings?"

"Nah, best to break her in gently," Ginny murmured back.

They left the pitch, passing security on the way out, and made their way to the Apparation point just outside the stands. The Newbridge Nundus' pitch was supposed to be Unplottable and it was in deepest Scotland, but naturally those deterrents only worked to a point. Usually, really persistent fans could track them down. Ginny still got a shock when she thought about having fans in the first place. It made the whole professional team thing seem especially surreal.

They Apparated to the prearranged point just outside Hogsmeade. Part of the reason they'd chosen to hold the celebration in Hogsmeade this year was because it was far enough from where they usually practiced that they wouldn't have much trouble with fans.

It was also near Hogwarts, which they intended to visit sometime that evening.

They split into groups of two so no one would realize they were here as an entire team (they'd caused a riot without meaning to on the way to their post-second-season party) and headed into the village.

"Excited to be back?" Ananda asked, linking her arm through Ginny's.

"Absolutely," Ginny said, a spring in her step as she stared around at the village. The streets were quiet – most people were home with their families or out at pubs and restaurants for supper. "I mean, it all started here, didn't it?"

"I wish I hadn't missed so much," Ananda murmured. "You know, with the pretending to be evil and so on."

"We've already made some new memories for you," Ginny said, giving her arm a squeeze. "You got a full two years on the Hogwarts team, three years with the Nundus, a spot in my wedding party ..."

Ananda snorted. "That was the highlight – periwinkle dress robes. Not even maid-of-honor, just boring old bridesmaid."

"You know it had to be Hermione, Jools, or Pansy, and they had to flip a coin for it," Ginny said. She remembered trembling at the prospect of having to choose just one of them as maid-of-honor – one of Ginny's best friends or Draco's best friend.

"And in the end, you got a maid _and_ matron-of-honor because Hermione and Blaise eloped," Ananda finished, rolling her eyes. "I still say that's cheating."

"And Pansy still thinks I rigged it so Jools won the coin toss for maid-of-honor," Ginny said, shaking her head with a smile. "Which I most certainly did _not_," she added quickly. Pansy had still been a bridesmaid, after all.

"I'm kind of amazed Jools was okay with it," Ananda said bluntly. "Being in your wedding, I mean."

"She and Draco spent a lot of time together while they were at uni, getting Jools ready to coach and Draco ready to own the Nundus," Ginny told her. "About a year before Draco proposed to me, Jools told me that she didn't think they'd have worked anyway. He drives her crazy." Ginny grinned. "Now that, I can relate to." She shook her head, twirling her wedding ring around her finger. "I can't believe I've been married almost a year."

"Got any anniversary plans?" Ananda asked as they made their way down the quiet street.

"Not sure yet," Ginny said, frowning. "Draco's up to something but I can't tell if it's related to our anniversary or the team."

"When isn't Draco up to something?" Ananda mumbled. She caught Ginny's look. "Hi – cousins. Known him all my life."

"True," Ginny agreed.

"Maybe he's planning some exotic trip somewhere," Ananda said thoughtfully. "He keeps complaining about his," and here she grinned mischievously at Ginny, "famous wife mucking up local holidays with her fame and stardom."

"It's true, to an extent," Ginny admitted. "We can't set foot in a hotel or inn without photographers and fans popping out of the woodwork. I swear the hotels call the press as soon as we make reservations. And not just for me," she added with a stern look into the gathering darkness. "Draco's quite the catch these days. Mack and Anna told me last week they've had to start fan clubs for Blaise and Draco as well." She leaned in close and murmured, "Don't breathe a word, but Draco and Blaise are meant to be on the cover of _Witch Weekly_'s August issue. They're being interviewed about the team and being young and rich and so on. Draco claims it's for publicity."

"Publicity for the team or for him?" Ananda said, rolling her eyes. Anyone who knew Draco knew how much he loved to be the center of attention. "So he's got his own fan club as well, has he?"

"He and Blaise do now, yeah," Ginny said. "The two of them get as many letters between them as the entire rest of the team does, put together." She giggled. "Mack and Anna burn all the death threats to me and Hermione before Draco or Blaise can see them."

"Death threats?"

"We're public enemy number one with women who think they're madly in love with Draco and Blaise," Ginny explained. "Actually," she added, "and don't repeat this to Draco, but I think Blaise might be a touch more popular. Hermione and I got Mack to give us some of the fan mail with death threats and Hermione got more death threats than I did. We spent two hours reading and laughing. I thought I'd split my sides." She smirked. "Then Draco and Blaise turned up earlier than we expected them and we had to throw the lot into the fire. They were deeply suspicious."

"Invite me next time," Ananda ordered. She smirked, too. "I got my twentieth marriage proposal last week. Anna told me. She's been keeping count."

"That's nice you can keep your options open," Ginny said. "Was this bloke a good one?"

"He claimed to be the richest wizard in Russia," Ananda said, eyebrows up skeptically. "You understand, I have my doubts."

Ginny grinned. "You have to give them a chance." She nudged the blonde. "What's this I hear about you and my brother?"

"Which one?" Ananda grinned teasingly. Unlike a lot of people, she didn't often blush and give herself away.

"Ron," Ginny said. "Mione said you bumped into each other while you two were at Quality Quidditch."

"Maybe we did," Ananda said, attempting to look deeply uninterested in the subject. "You Weasleys," she added. "You're quite susceptible to Malfoys. Perhaps it's the inbreeding."

"In which family?" Ginny said pointedly.

Ananda smirked. "Who the hell knows? Clearly we're all insane."

"So you're not going to tell me if you're dating my brother?" Ginny demanded. She shrugged. "Fine, I guess I'll just have to blackmail it out of him."

"If you do, I might think about selling those wedding photos I stashed," Ananda said. She grinned. "Don't try to blackmail Slytherins."

"Who wants our wedding photos?" Ginny asked curiously.

Ananda laughed. "The _Prophet_ was offering filthy lucre for photos of your wedding, or Blaise and Hermione's."

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Not," Ananda added hastily, "that I would sell _really_..."

**)BW(**

_**A few years earlier ...**_

Ginny felt like she might be sick.

"You ready?" Jools asked.

"No," Ginny said. "I think my intestines might crawl up my throat and strangle me."

"Eww, what the hell is wrong with you?" the captain demanded. Her knuckles tightened and loosened convulsively around her broom handle.

"If you lot don't stop shaking, they're going to cancel the match on account of earthquake," Susie said, patting Hermione on the shoulder in passing as she paced up and down the starting lineup. "Just play the best game you've ever played. It'll be just like our first match at Hogwarts. We're not here to win. We're here to prove we're in the game."

Everyone nodded mechanically, though Ginny saw shoulders relax along the line.

"Please don't get hurt," Ananda murmured from the reserve lineup behind Ginny. Ginny thought this was sweet of her until Ananda added, "I don't think I could mount my broom right now, much less fly. And word on the street is I'm your reserve this match."

"Thanks for that," Ginny grumbled darkly. She pulled off a glove and wiped a sweaty hand on her robes.

"Our first match," Hannah murmured. "I can't believe we made it this far!"

Something about the words, or maybe Hannah's awed tone, awakened a feeling in Ginny, one she'd not felt since the first weeks of training back at Hogwarts. Before they'd been a team, with a coach and lockers and nice brooms, they'd been team mates with a mania for Quidditch they all secretly shared. No consequences, just love of the game.

That memory seemed to resonate down the line. Everyone stood a bit straighter. Jools pulled on her gloves and gripped her Beater's bat. Betina squared her shoulders. Pansy and Hermione nodded to each other and knocked their broom handles together.

Before them, the doors opened onto the pitch and a roar of noise.

"Get out there, Nundus!" Susie bellowed, her voice ringing through Ginny's heart.

"Mount up!" Jools called, a grin splitting her face.

Ginny barely remembered their first match. She remembered breaking her ankle but less the pain and more the having to fly the last five minutes of the match without the use of her foot. Susie and Jools had both railed on her later for not calling out a reserve but Ginny was selfishly glad she hadn't. She remembered the thrill, the tight focus, and best of all, her first successful aerial in a pro match. She also remembered the energy of the crowd. They weren't really cheering for one team or the other. They were just thrilled to be there. Ginny liked that.

They hadn't won the match, of course. It would have been silly to expect it, especially as they wound up playing the Wimbourne Wasps, a far better team than Draco and Blaise had anticipated. But they proved something to the crowd and would discover later that it resonated at other matches. They proved they were in the game and that they were tough.

And people liked them.

They were fresh blood. Their all-girl youth and newness made them totally unique to the league. The Holyhead Harpies had been around for centuries and their members tended to be closer to thirty. The Nundus were young and innocent to pro-Quidditch. The crowds loved the little guy, apparently.

"They can't help it," Draco told Ginny a few nights after her first match. He stretched out beside her on their bed, hands tucked behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. "They want you to win and they're completely fascinated with you all."

"Maybe someone should write an unauthorized biography," Ginny suggested, curling up under the blankets and propping her head on her hand. "I can see it now: 'The Newbridge Nundus: Misfits Strike Back.'"

Draco grinned. "As it happens, Blaise and I have had several people approach us about biographies."

"Really?" Ginny said, raising an eyebrow. "What have you said?"

"That they'd better hold off until there's something to put in the biography," he said bluntly. "You lot only have one match under your belts. Let's finish the season and then talk about biographies."

"It was incredible out there, Draco," Ginny said, grinning as she remembered; not specific events so much as feelings.

"You were spectacular," he said, caressing her cheek. Then he spoiled the moment by adding sharply, "But if you try playing injured again, I'll make sure Susie sits you out for the rest of the season."

"Honestly, I didn't notice!" Ginny insisted, rolling her ankle experimentally. The Skele-Gro had healed the ankle the evening after the match but it was still a bit sensitive. "I was so caught up in everything ..."

"You need to learn to notice," Draco insisted. "You have to learn to focus beyond the adrenaline, Gin. Your body can only take so much punishment before it can't be fixed."

Ginny glared at him over the pillows. Then she sighed, her expression relaxing. "All right," she said. "I'll be more careful."

"Good." Draco didn't say that he didn't know what he would do if anything happened to her. He didn't need to – Ginny saw the look in his eyes that had become very familiar over the last few years. She reached for him and he reached back.

Later that night, Ginny woke to find Draco sitting up in bed and toying with a little black box in the weak light of the bedside table. He was flipping the lid up and down, staring at the glittering ring inside. Ginny's eyes filled as she stared silently up at him.

He jumped when he finally noticed her eyes fixed on him. "Bollocks!" he swore, snapping the box shut and stuffing it under the blankets.

"Do you want me to pretend I didn't see anything, _coach_?" Ginny said, wiping her eyes on the pillow.

"Oh, don't bother," he grumbled. "I know you did."

"Were you still making up your mind?" Ginny wanted to know.

"No, of course not," he said, sighing. "But I'd just sorted out the perfect way to ask you and now I've gone and ruined everything."

"You mean _I've_ gone and ruined everything," Ginny corrected, sitting up with a wobbly grin. "You like to blame me. _Coach_," she added again.

"That's right, Weasley, it's all your fault," Draco said, reaching out to wipe the remaining tears from her cheeks. He hesitated. "Do I even have to ask?" he said at last, offering her the box.

She caught it and, without looking inside, threw herself into his arms.

**)BW(**

_**Present **_

"You are, eventually, going to tell us all how Harry defeated You-Know-Who," Jessica said pointedly, and out of the blue, to Hermione. "I mean, we were all in the DA. He promised he'd tell us someday. Someday is here."

They sat around a large table in the corner of the club below the Hog's Head, each working on a drink. Jessica sat at the head of the table, since the party was partly to welcome her to the Nundus, and looked like she owned the world. She also looked like she was bent on some answers.

Everyone turned to look at Hermione. She rolled her butterbeer bottle between her hands.

"To be honest, it's not my story to tell," Hermione said. "I mean, I was a part of it. I helped. But what Harry did ..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "It's his right."

"So we all have to sit around waiting for Potter's biography?" Draco demanded.

"I'm sure he'll give you a signed copy if you ask nicely, Draco." Pansy took an innocent sip of her drink.

"I reckon he's told _you _everything," Ananda said, eyeing Pansy.

"Why would he do that?" she said, continuing to sip her drink with a look of obliviousness that fooled no one.

"Oh, let's see, because you're practically engaged?" Millicent said, rolling her eyes. "I blame Potter for your total inability to be sneaky anymore."

"Oy!" Pansy said loudly. When they'd all stopped pointing and laughing, she said in a low voice, "Hermione's right. Harry will talk about it when he's ready." A shadow flickered across her face as she said it. Ginny wondered how much of the story Pansy knew.

"You know," Hermione said slowly, glancing at Draco, "you could just try asking him. Maybe he'd even tell you."

"Yeah, that's likely." But Draco spent the next hour looking a bit preoccupied and twisting his wedding band around his finger. He often did that when he was deciding something.

"Now you've done it," Ginny mumbled to Hermione.

"Harry needs to talk about it but everyone's still too afraid to ask him outright," Hermione retorted in an undertone. "Years now and he hasn't even told most of the Weasleys. I'm sure he's told Pansy, at least parts of it, but I can still count on one hand the number of people I know he's talked to. Including people in the Order and new Ministry."

"You're hoping Draco will ask him?" Ginny realized, surprised.

"Yes," Hermione said. "It sounds crazy but I think it will help him. The coach won't throw a lot of pity at him or get emotional. He'll listen and be a more impartial ear. Harry needs that."

"Please tell me," Ginny wheedled for the millionth time, "how that Killing Curse didn't kill me and why Harry went to the Death Eaters in the woods and what was in that memory of Snape's."

"Sorry," Hermione said, really looking it. "Ron and I agreed, that stuff is for Harry to tell, if and when he's ready."

Pansy looked up quickly from across the table. Her eyes were shuttered but Ginny knew, in that minute, that Pansy knew everything.

And that she was unspeakably proud of whatever Harry had done.

years and Harry still hadn't told the DA like he promised he would. He was clearly moving on with his life. He would start playing Seeker for Puddlemere in the upcoming season, since their Seeker of ten years was finally retiring. After he got too old for Quidditch, he intended to join the Aurors. His plans were good, he was in a committed relationship, and yet ...

"Will he ever be ready?" Ginny wondered aloud.

"I hope so," Hermione said, chewing her lip.

"Talk him into writing that biography and using the proceeds to help the orphanage in Hogsmeade," Ginny offered.

Hermione brightened. "I'll see what I can do."

At this interesting moment, Harry burst into the club, looking frantically around. He saw them and sighed in relief.

"Sorry I'm late!" he said breathlessly, hurrying over. "I got held up by the assistant coach."

"I may break up with you," Pansy said with a straight face. She accepted a kiss and handed him a mead she'd ordered a half-hour ago.

"Just as well, anyway," Ginny said, examining her fingernails. "We were talking about you. Saying terrible things. Starting vicious rumors."

Harry looked hunted and Hermione took pity on him. "We were not," she assured him, as the others laughed. "Are you going on to Puddlemere's party after this?"

"That's why the coach cornered me," Harry said, still looking suspicious. "Made me swear to turn up." He grinned suddenly at Hermione. "And since Ron is coming along as my date, I really do have to be there."

"You're cheating on me with _Weasley_?" Pansy said, swooning back in her chair. "It's so pathetic I could cry."

The girls laughed and Harry rolled his eyes. "When you're quite through," he said pointedly. "I have some news."

"What is it?" Ananda asked.

"Turns out you lot are playing Puddlemere first thing next season," Harry said. Everyone stared at him and then excited murmurs burst out around the table.

"Er – I think Betina's going to faint," Hannah said, prodding her in the arm. The Seeker's eyes had gone glassy. Blaise tipped a shot of fire whiskey down her throat.

"Oy! That's nothing!" Jessica shrieked, glowering at the Chosen One. "She's had three seasons! I'm on my first and I might have to play you," she jabbed a finger at Harry, "in my _very first match_."

"This is why I hadn't got round to telling them yet," Draco growled at Harry, who looked beatifically pleased at the havoc he'd caused.

"Oh, you laugh, Potter," Pansy said darkly. "Wait until your girlfriend and your best mate are flattened by Puddlemere Chasers and then your best mate's husband comes round to have you slowly and brutally murdered."

Harry glanced at Blaise. Blaise grinned. "My wife is much too clever to get clobbered by other Chasers," he said serenely, putting an arm around her.

"Your faith in me is overwhelming," Hermione said, smiling. "Harry, why in the world are we starting against Puddlemere? Our standing in the league isn't good enough."

"Apparently, it's a giant media ploy," Draco cut in, glaring at Harry as if to indicate he'd caused enough damage already and he could keep his mouth shut, thank you very much. "Potter's first season as Puddlemere's Seeker and our team's fourth season opening. Tickets will sell out as soon as they go on sale." He gave Harry a sharp look. "You shouldn't have just sprung it on them, Potter."

"I'd rather know now," Jools said, shrugging.

Susie nodded. "We've got to design the summer training. Knowing what we're up against will help with that."

"That's true," Adrienne said. "Anything for an edge." She grinned. "Thanks, Harry."

"Anytime."

**)BW(**

_**A few years earlier**_

"Are you sure, Professor?" Draco stared back and forth between the old woman behind the desk and the young man sitting next to him in front of it.

"I've read and reread Professor Dumbledore's will," Professor McGonagall said crisply. "His instructions were very specific."

"Are you sure you're up to it, Jones?" Draco asked. "You saw my girls – you know what a challenge it is."

"I also know how happy it made you and it might very well have helped win a war, Malfoy," Daniel Jones said stoutly. "You can't do it anymore. You have a professional team to manage now."

"Is anyone even interested anymore?" Draco asked doubtfully. "I mean, I'm sure five girls left on the team will be but that leaves nine spots to fill." The team had always had fourteen members. There was good reason for it.

"Are you mad?" Jones demanded. "I've had girls from all four Houses breathing down my neck since I started throwing the idea around. And your team girls now are desperate to keep the team going."

"I just don't understand," Draco said. "Why?"

"Professor Dumbledore chose to support this project because he saw the incredible potential it had for change," McGonagall said. "He was right – without the connections forged between those fourteen girls, the four houses might never have united to help defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. And now you and those girls have expanded beyond Hogwarts, using the unity that made you powerful here at Hogwarts to set an example for the rest of the world."

"But – I mean, aren't the four Houses getting on better now?" Draco asked. It had only been a year since he'd been at Hogwarts, since he'd begun the professional team. He'd seen the changes the girls had helped create and that the former DA members continued to foster. New girls had joined the team as the original team slowly graduated and moved on and, to Draco's surprise, had developed similar bonds to those of the original team.

"Oh, sure, the Houses get on fine," Jones said easily. "But each House has a team, an isolationist way of thinking about itself. There should be one team that unites the four Houses, combining the best qualities of each one."

"The message extends far beyond Quidditch or you know I'd never support it, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said stiffly. "We've all seen how effective it has been at creating bonds between students." She glanced pointedly at Draco. "Bonds that have lasted."

He grinned a little. Jones rolled his eyes, though whether about the reference to Draco's long-time girlfriend or McGonagall's lack of appreciation for Quidditch was anyone's guess.

"Jones," Draco tried one last time, "if you coach the team, you won't be able to play anymore. You can't captain Slytherin and coach the girls at the same time."

"I know," Jones said, shrugging. "I got to captain a year. It's been a good run. I think this will be better." His eyes narrowed. "I _am_ qualified, Malfoy."

"I'm aware of that," Draco said. In fact, he couldn't think of anyone better to take over the team. "It's just, I want you to be ready. It's a big responsibility."

"So don't screw up?" Jones said, eyeing his shrewdly. "I think I can handle it."

"You'll have to start from scratch, more or less," Draco pointed out. "Jess and Patrice will only be there another year each. If you pick the team up next year, Nat and Adrienne will have graduated."

"Better to start mostly from scratch. Jess will be captain of Slytherin her seventh year," Jones said, nodding. "That's our plan, anyway. She needs experience working without a net and the Slytherin team is the perfect opportunity." Jones' eyebrows shot up. "Do I pass, _coach_?"

Draco held up his hands in mock-surrender. "You've obviously thought of everything."

"Hi – Slytherin." Jones offered a hand, which Draco shook.

"Thank you," Draco said grudgingly. "It'll mean a lot to the girls that you're carrying on."

"And it will mean a lot to other girls here that they have a shot at Quidditch," Jones said. He paused. "One question. Why not make it co-ed?"

"Maybe someday," Draco said slowly. "Just remember, it was girls who built the bridges, long before boys were involved."

"It was Dumbledore's belief that women build communities," McGonagall put in, glancing involuntarily at the portrait behind her desk. Dumbledore snored peacefully in his frame, his beard rippling with every exhalation. "And he believed that women, far more than men, need to be empowered in the world of sports. His belief is that, for the moment, girls at Hogwarts need the opportunity and have a better chance of upholding the values of the original team, while boys," she nodded to Draco and Jones, "will function as supports, as needed."

"Bit sexist, but I guess I understand," Jones murmured.

"It is not sexist to empower a group not traditionally widely accepted in this arena," McGonagall countered. "In any event, Professor Dumbledore stipulated that it was a team for girls, to allow them to play Quidditch and create gateways, and so, there's nothing further to discuss."

Jones shrugged. "Suits me fine," he said. "I'll set up tryouts at the end of this term." He smirked at Draco. "Send along some of your new team's body guards when you get some. We'll need the crowd control."

"I can do better than that," Draco returned, getting to his feet. "I'll send Blaise along to give you advice. He's the reason I joined up with the team and, even if he was always a pain in the arse, he's the reason the team got as far as it did."

"I'd appreciate that," Jones admitted. "Come see our first match?"

"Hell," Draco said, something light and excited in his chest. His girls had left a legacy behind them at Hogwarts – he couldn't wait to tell them. "I'll bring the Newbridge Nundus with me."

**)BW(**

_**Present**_

They finished the evening where everything had begun.

"Are we stretching tonight, _coach_?" Ginny asked, seating herself on the neat, dry grass of the pitch and grinning up at him.

"You're still a smart arse, Weasley," Draco retorted as the others laughed. "Hogwarts seemed to bring it out of you."

"I can't believe we started here," Susie murmured, leaning her armless shoulder against Jools and staring around at the empty stands. She grinned. "I remember the first time we met out here. You weren't there, coach," she added as Draco sat down next to Ginny and leaned back on his arms.

"We were such a mess," Hannah added, laughing. "We all came running out with these horrid second-hand brooms."

"We just wanted to fly," Natalie remembered. "We would have used levitation charms if we hadn't had brooms."

Ananda laughed. "Can you imagine? Reserves on the ground, levitating the players around the pitch."

Millicent snorted and Hermione leaned into her, giggling.

"We should try a match like that sometime," Pansy said, pulling up grass blades. She frowned. "No one tell Potter." She had left him back at the pub. This time at Hogwarts was for the girls, Draco, and Blaise.

"Certainly take the other team by surprise," Patrice said. "Is it even legal?"

"Doubt it, but I'll look it up," Draco said, still grinning.

"I'm so happy Jones has the new team up and running," Jessica said after a moment's comfortable silence.

"I can't wait to see their first match next season," Patrice added. "With a few years behind them, I think Jones has really fixed them up." She had been there for their first year.

"Think they'll join us Nundus in the pro league?" Adrienne wondered. "I mean, it's a natural progression: Hogwarts to the pro team."

"Maybe some of them," Ginny said slowly. "I don't know – it might just be a fun thing to do at school for some of them. I think our group was ... unusual."

"We did all fight a war together," Ananda murmured, eyes on the stars above. "I don't know about you lot, but I wanted to keep what we had at Hogwarts alive after we left. What better way than Quidditch?"

"And on that note," Draco said, glancing at Blaise. His friend grinned.

"What?" Ginny asked, staring up at him.

"They've got that look," Jools said, eyeing them both. "What have you lot been up to, then?"

"Stay put," Draco ordered as Ginny and Jools made to get up and follow. He and Blaise jogged to the girls' locker room, disappearing inside for a moment.

"We knew you'd all be nostalgic, coming back here," Blaise called, reappearing with a bag and an old trunk balanced awkwardly in his arms. "So we thought we'd plan a little surprise for you."

The girls got to their feet, a sense of expectation building. Ginny and Jools glanced at each other, both grinning uncontrollably. Moments later, they all blinked as the massive spotlights that lit the night practices flickered on.

"Our old brooms!" Ananda shrieked, darting over the Blaise, who was pulling their retired Firebolts from the large bag.

"Oh, Blaise, I just knew you didn't throw them out!" Hermione cried, with a look that suggested she'd actually had no idea.

"Hello, beautiful," Pansy murmured, running a hand over her battered Firebolt. Millicent, standing near her, hefted her Beater's bat in one hand and admired her splintered broom with the other.

"Who's making up the teams, then?" Susie asked, taking her broom as well and leaning on Jools. As discussion over teams began, Ginny slipped over to her husband. He grinned down at her and she beamed back.

"Best anniversary present ever," she murmured. He held out Ginny's old Firebolt and she took it, running a hand over the faded wood. "You planned this, _coach_?"

"With Blaise's help," Draco said, the old Quidditch fire flickering in his eyes. "Go on, Weasley. Get in the air."

**)BW(**

The End


End file.
